


Mending the Crag (3)

by Woodlandelk



Series: Of Elves and Humans [3]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Complicated Relationships, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Plague, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:21:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 117,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23965303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woodlandelk/pseuds/Woodlandelk
Summary: This is the sequel of my "The Witcher" Story about Iorveth and his human soulmate, Yrdenne.I usually post the story on Deviantart, but because several requests, I will also start posting here on AO3.The up-to-date content will always be on Deviantart:https://www.deviantart.com/yrdenne/gallery/64464069/mending-the-crag-book-2
Relationships: Iorveth (The Witcher)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Of Elves and Humans [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/972903
Comments: 16
Kudos: 53





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel of my "The Witcher" Story about Iorveth and his human soulmate, Yrdenne.  
> I usually post the story on Deviantart, but because several requests, I will also start posting here on AO3.
> 
> The up-to-date content will always be on Deviantart:  
> https://www.deviantart.com/yrdenne/gallery/64464069/mending-the-crag-book-2

The night was cold and the snow glistened in the light of a moon as pale as bone. It was silent in the court of Kaer Morhen, and the frozen white blanket let the location of the previous battle seem surprisingly innocent. Iorveth leant against the wall, next to him the white-haired witcher. They were both exhausted and still on an adrenaline rush, and while his old nemesis – the elf chuckled over this denomination – Vernon Roche had drunk too much and went a little nuts, the elf took a breath of fresh air with his old friend Geralt of Rivia. Inside the dismal and grey castle, Roche threw mugs against walls and tried to follow the Scoia´tael commander to “kill this pointed eared bastard with my bare hands”. Therefore, Iorveth preferred to stay outside until the drunken Temerian gave up or fell asleep – just in case.  
“How the hell did you manage to insult the White Hunt, gwynbleidd?” asked the elf with steaming breath. The cold did not bother him, he even was thankful for the chill breeze to calm down.  
The witcher turned his head and looked at the elf as if he wanted to make sure Iorveth hadn´t lost his sanity, too. He had told the story countless times, or heard it countless times, told by Ciri, and Yen. He did not even remember how often… And it still sounded like a nightmare, every time.   
But then the witcher noticed how the lips of the elf curled into a slight smirk – Iorveth just mocked him. Who else could mock someone about being hunted by the Storm Riders if not the Scoia´tael leader, the most wanted elf in the Northern Realms AND the Empire of Nilfgaard?  
The witcher was just about to answer, when the door of the castle was opened with a creak. A head crowned by beautiful, maroon hair appeared and looked at the witcher and the elf.

“Iorveth, can I have you for a moment?” Triss asked with a gentle voice, “Alone, if you don´t mind.”  
The witcher raised his eyebrow and scrutinized the elf. What was going on between this pointed eared bandit and the sorceress – a sorceress he used to share his bed with. A sorceress, who had become friends with said elf after the events in Loc Muinne.  
“Sure, I will leave you alone,” hummed the witcher, but hesitated. After some instants he pushed his massive body away from the wall and went inside, not without sending both his friends a suspicious glare.

“What can I do for you, Triss?” Iorveth asked when Geralt was gone. The sorceress pulled her cloak around her shoulders and came closer, there was the hint of a smile in her eyes, but her expression was stern.  
“I have a message for you, Iorveth,” she begun, and insecure she brushed a strand of hair out of her face.  
“A message? From whom?” Iorveth crossed his arms in front of his chest and squared his back, feeling he might already know what the woman would tell him.  
Triss met his gaze.  
“A while ago I talked to Francesca Findabair…” – “There is no message from this hag I ever wanted to hear!” Iorveth growled before Triss could finish her sentence.  
“Iorveth, please.” Gently the sorceress laid her hands on his arms, now standing directly in front of him. “I know what she did. I was there, Iorveth, I know what she did to you. To your comrades, your warriors. But please let me tell you what Francesca wants you to hear.”  
The elf clenched his teeth – as if there wasn´t enough weight to carry, enough problems to worry about, now also Francesca had a message for him.   
Radovid was still alive, Nilfgaard would cross the Pontar in spring, Isengrim and he prepared the Scoia´tael to get out of the way when the remaining soldiers of the Northern Realms would crash into the army of the Nilfgaardian Sun. And then there was Yrdenne… and he racked his brain about her every night.   
“Keep it short,” Iorveth decided. It would not hurt him to hear what Findabair had to say – he would ignore it anyway.  
“She did not say much. Francesca only asked me to reach out for you, and to invite you to Dol Blathanna on her behalf. She needs to talk to you, personally. She said she has an offer to make.”  
Surprised Iorveth raised his eyebrow. This was something he did not expect, at all.   
“She invites me to Dol Blathanna? Is this a trap?” the elf asked suspiciously. Sending Triss to lure him into a trap – definitely something Francesca would do. But why?  
“I don´t think so. She sounded worried… Emhyr var Emreis reaches out for the Northern Realms, and he will not spare Dol Blathanna. She might need you more than ever,” Triss mused, her hands still lying on his arms.   
“She should have thought about that before she sold the heads of her officers out…” Iorveth spat, his expression darkened and his eyes were filled with disgust. “She abandoned us, signed our death warrant – and now she is the one who is lost.”  
“Iorveth, I am just the messenger. I will not judge this situation, I am just saying it will not hurt you to listen what she has to offer,” Triss stated.   
“I am not sure if it is worth the risk – Dol Blathanna is surrounded by Nilfgaard. It´s suicide for me to go there,” the elf decided and shook his head. “Enid an Gleanna had her chance. And she did not ask for forgiveness yet.“

Some days later, a certain elf was on his way through the Blue Mountains, on elven paths so he would not ran into a Nilfgaardian unit – or worse. He was on his way to Dol Blathanna, and he still could not understand how he had gotten into this mess again.


	2. A New Life

It was a quiet morning in Vizima, the citizens were still asleep and even the town guards leant on their halberds and dozed. Since Temeria had become a vessel state of Nilfgaard, life had slowed down. Now that Emhyr had what he wanted the illusion of peace covered everything like a nice and fluffy blanket and the people closed their eyes for what it really connoted. The rising sun broke through the clouds and dyed the sky in a wonderful rainbow from orange to deep pink to blue.  
When the first sunrays fell through the window, Yrdenne woke up. A slight headache gave evidence that she had drunk a little too much wine last night. Slowly she opened her eyes and looked around. This was not her bedroom. Grey stone walls, a very simple shelf, a chest, a small table and two chairs and simple greyish-blue bedsheets. The only decorative element in the room was a carved Temerian coat of arms at the wall. She was in the garrison.

Embarrassed and annoyed the young woman buried her face in her palms. Again. She had done it again. She turned her head and was relieved when she saw that the man lying next to her was still sleeping. He must have given her his blanket, because only his lower body half was covered by his cloak. Fortunately it was late spring and it wasn´t too cold. A sheepish smile flitted across her face, well aware he would give anything for her. And she did not mind seeing his defined chest and the muscular arms once more before she left. In her eyes he was the most handsome man at the court and she felt guilty for falling for him whenever they had too much wine. It wasn´t fair.  
With a hushed sigh Yrdenne got up, trying to be as silent as possible. Her trousers, tunic and underwear lay on the ground. It must have been a wild night, because her and his clothes were spread all over the floor and it took her a while to find her second boot. A memory of him kissing her neck flashed through her mind. She blushed and glanced at the sleeping man. He had been a bit unexperienced the first times, but quickly learned what she liked. By the gods, this happened way too often.  
Yrdenne slipped into her trousers and tunic and stuffed the underwear into her beg. She needed to take a bath anyway… Glad he did not wake up yet, she tiptoed to the door.   
“Again? You are sneaking away again?” asked a sharp voice.  
Yrdenne cringed. Caught in the act she turned around, but avoided meeting his gaze. She could not stand the reproach in his storm grey eyes.  
“How long do you play this game? A year, one and a half?” the young man asked. He sat on his bed cross legged, not even caring to cover himself. His blond braid was messy and tangled and fell over his shoulder on his chest. “Every time we drink, we end up in bed and the morning after, you sneak away and pretend it never happened. Every single time. I am tired of this, Yrdenne.”  
“I am sorry, Dalayer…” she admitted, even though she really meant that, it sounded like a shallow phrase.   
“For what? Sorry that I caught you this time? Sorry because you act like we are just friends while the whole damn court knows we are not? Or do you regret sleeping with me at all?” he enquired. “After all this time, don´t you think you should finally commit to this? To us?”  
It hurt. It hurt seeing him so disappointed, but it also hurt he thought she regretted being with him.  
“I am sorry I can´t withstand you. I am sorry that I fail to say no, because I enjoy these nights way too much. I am sorry we both can´t stay away from each other, even though we both know I will not make any commitment.” she replied and eventually managed to look him in the eyes.   
“Are you seriously still waiting for him?” Dalayer was staggered and anger blended in his voice. “When will you let go of this little-girl’s dream of marrying an elf? He will not come back!”  
“Thank you for telling me!” Yrdenne hissed, Dalayer exactly knew her sore spot. She waited for a sign of life from Iorveth for four years, but it seemed the Scoia´tael had vanished from the Northern Realms since Radovid’s death. At least she knew how to hurt Dalayer, too. “And I don´t dream of marriage at all. I will not agree to any relationship, because the last time I got engaged it ended pretty bad.”  
That worked. Dalayer fell silent.   
But now Yrdenne was enraged. She just inhaled to add another nasty truth when heavy knocking at the door interrupted them.   
“Captain!” yelled someone, “Roche wants to see you. A delegation from Mahakam arrived!”  
“I am coming!” Dalayer replied harshly. Before he stood up, he sent Yrdenne a very long look. “We are not done yet.”  
“Will we ever be?” she asked with a growl in her voice. Not awaiting a response, Yrdenne turned away and left Dalayer’s room.  
The two guards she met on the hallways greeted her friendly, as if it was the most normal thing to see the court physician of Anaïs La Valette in the garrison. Dalayer was right… it was no secret that there was something going on between them. The whole court knew. She remembered how every now and then a guard or a Temerian official had tried to hit on her – but any attempts stopped quickly after she had spent a few nights with Dalayer. There was no need to fuel these rumours. So she hurried to get back into her own chamber. And because the arrival of the Mahakam dwarves had woken the whole court, she decided to take the servants’ paths.   
“Maybe you should just stop going out with him for wine!” suggested a voice out of nowhere.  
Yrdenne’s heart skipped a beat, she had not noticed Malik standing in the shadow next to a pillar.   
“Thank you for frightening me!” the young woman rolled her eyes. Since Thaler had invited Malik to join the Temerian secret service, he took every chance to jokingly spy on his friends or to lie in ambush for them. Malik, before anyone else, had paid high priced during the rebellion in Novigrad – but at least it had paid off in some way.   
After the remaining rebels finally killed Radovid, Redania became part of the Nilfgaardian Empire. But somehow Roche and Thaler managed the restoration of Temeria, and when they needed to fill vacancies at the court they remembered their loyal allies, especially this blackhaired young man who was a dedicated spy and skilled fighter. Even though Oxenfurt stayed a free city, Malik immediately took Thaler’s offer. The memories of Aryell were too fresh and too painful to stay.   
And Roche had wanted a well-trained female physician for the Temerian court, because the future queen Anaïs La Valette would reach puberty sooner or later, Yrdenne mused. Initially, Dalayer only joined them because he did not want to be left behind in Oxenfurt. Since he was a born Temerian, he fulfilled the requirements to join the court guard. It took him a while to gain some confidence after what had happened. His experiences with Varnhelm – and Iorveth and Yrdenne – had crushed his self-esteem. But eventually, the former knight regained the trust in his skills and was able to prove his worth and loyalty. After only two years he became Captain of the palace guard in Vizima.  
“You heard about the delegation from Mahakam? Moira returned with the dwarves. I thought since we are not invited for the official welcome party, we could meet her for a cup of tea.” suggested Malik with a grin. “Or do you need more sleep?”  
“I would like to change.” Yrdenne replied with a wink. “But how wonderful that Moira is back! Is Ennis with her?”  
“I hope so! My brother in law still owes me revenge!” Malik stated heroically.   
“Malik, you will never outdrink a dwarf.” laughing Yrdenne shook her head. Life was light in Vizima. 

A little later Yrdenne and Malik met Moira and her husband Ennis in a tastefully furnished inn close to the castle of Vizima. The walls of the public parlour were painted in light blue and covered in various paintings of flowers. Every table had a different design and all chairs were cushioned with different fabric. The house was on the Northern side of a large square, the big windows facing Southern, so the sunlight would always find its way. The owner, Reginald, was a kind-hearted soul and though he usually did not offer breakfast or lunch for his regular guests, Yrdenne and her friends were always welcome in his house, especially Malik.   
Reginald was a in his mid-forties and first strands of grey waved through his dark blond, chin-length hair. He was only as tall as Yrdenne and his stomach gave evidence of his love for good food, and his blue eyes were so sparkly one could not be mad at him when he messed up an order.  
The reunion of the twins was heart-warming; they had barely met since Moira had moved to Mahakam with Ennis. After the menace through the Order of the Flaming Rose was banned, chieftain Asgerius Treunaxe had sent most of his men back to Mahakam while he stayed in Oxenfurt as an ambassador. Since Moira had some personal concerns against the Nilfgaardian reign she and Ennis decided to go with them. Ennis was the youngest nephew of Brouver Hoog, the elder of Mahakam and leader of the six chieftains, so he easily managed to get permission for bringing a human woman with him. The four friends took seat at Malik’s favourite table – next to a large painting of a field with cornflowers. Yrdenne noticed immediately that Moira and Ennis looked tired, exhausted even. The dark circles below their eyes and their pale skin were not only caused by the long journey to Temeria.  
“So, what takes you to Vizima?” Malik asked after Reginald had taken their orders. “You are not here for the beautiful countryside, are you?”  
Ennis and Moira send each other knowing glances.  
“The officially reason or the real one?” Ennis asked sternly. Ennis was really young for a dwarf, his folk probably considered him still a child, since they reached majority with the age of 50. His beard was still short and the curly brown hair let him look more harmless than he actually was. Ennis had fought at the Temple of the Eternal Fire and considered himself a warrior. When he was serious about a matter, it was dead serious.  
“Is it that bad?” Malik frowned.  
“People in Mahakam are getting sick. The first elders and children already died. It´s highly contagious and we don´t know what to do about it.” explained Moira. “Yet, we could not convince Brouver to ask for medical help… we are afraid he misunderstood the situation.” Nervously the black-haired woman bit her lip. She glanced at Yrdenne.  
“What kind of disease it? Do you think it could be the plague?” Yrdenne was alarmed by Moiras explanaition. It was common knowledge that dwarves were as tough as the rock they lived on and only very young children and really old dwarves got sick at all. Frowning, Moira shook her head.  
“We don´t know. The healers don´t have seen something like that ever before – and trust me, many of the healers are really old!”   
“What did you mean when you said Brouver misunderstood the situation? You are here, asking for help, aren´t you?” Malik enquired. One could already see how his brain racked through the information he had about Mahakam. Something about the whole situation was odd.  
“Some months ago ambassadors from Dol Blathanna visited Mahakam. Officially, it was only a representative visit, but well, it´s no secret that Francesca Findabair has some issues with Emhyr. I assume they were calling for allies.” revealed Ennis and his expression darkened. “Brouver told them he would remain neutral, and some days after the elves had left, the first people got sick. The chieftain immediately ended all diplomatic relations to Dol Blathanna and now he is searching for allies. The delegation is not here to ask for medical aid.”  
Yrdenne gasped and Malik raised his brows. The actions of Brouver were a direct accusation and if Dol Blathanna heard about this political affront, Mahakam could face serious consequences.   
“Why would the elves do that? They, too, have trade relations with Mahakam. And they desperately need alleys.” Malik mused and scratched his head. “Even if Francesca united all elves under one banner she could not fight Emhyr.”

“I can´t believe Brouver would go that far and declare war to Dol Blathanna. The Valley is basically defenceless.” Yrdenne added, “Basically all their warriors fell in the Second Nilfgaardian war or were expatriated because they weare Scoia´tael.” An uneasy feeling spread in her guts. During the rebellion in Novigrad, she had overheard Iorveth and Wolf talking about Francesca Findabhair and knew how the Scoia´tael loathed her former leader. Not many elves were left, their race was dying. The self-declared Queen of the elves could not risk another war.   
“Explain that to Brouver…” Moira sighed.  
“That´s why we are here. Moira mentioned that you have some serious medical knowledge.” stated Ennis. Yrdenne could not help but laugh.  
“Yes, serious medical knowledge” she chuckled. “I studied medicine in Oxenfurt, so even if I don’t know what makes your people sick, at least I know where to search for answers and whom to ask.”  
“One of the healers is my brother, he wrote everything down as detailed as he could. Do you have time to have a look at his notes?” asked Ennis hopeful.   
Yrdenne nodded.   
“Awesome idea! While you guys explain Yrdenne what is going on in Mahakam, I will make a visit. Something about this whole Dol Blathanna topic seems odd to me…” Malik and stood up.   
If it was true what Ennis had told them, the peace in the former Northern Realms was on a knife edge.


	3. Memories

The report of Ennis’ brother was concerning on every level. Again and again, Yrdenne read through his notes, watched by the sorrowful eyes of Moira and Ennis. The mysterious disease started rather harmless, with fatigue, a sore throat and itchy skin, but quickly worsened within the first two to three days. After about a week, most sufferers fell into a deep sleep from which they never awoke again.   
“I have never heard of a disease like that.” Admitted Yrdenne after she read the notes for a fifth time. “Your brother did very well to quarantine the sufferers immediately, he probably prevented worse. A disease like this can wipe the population of Mahakam from this earth.”  
The corners of Ennis mouth twitched and his hands clawed so tight at his mug that his knuckles turned white. Moira wrapped her arms around her stomach and Yrdenne saw how hard she fought against the tears.   
“Do you know of anyone who could help us? Maybe one of the Professors in Oxenfurt?” she asked with a hushed voice.  
“To be honest, I don´t know who is still at the Academy.” Yrdenne’s throat bobble as she swallowed. “Since the annection by Nilfgaard, they brought many good scientists to the Imperial Academy and other fled to Lan Exeter in Kovir. And I don´t know what happened to the Medical Library…”  
“But there must be something we can to… somebody to ask!”  
“I can go through my latest correspondences again to figure out whom to ask. Fortunately, the Medical Circle of Nilfgaard is quite zealous to keep the court healers connected and informed.” A smile flitted across Yrdenne’s face. Living in a vessel state of Nilfgaard at least had some advantages.  
Ennis cleared his throat.   
“We would like to leave tomorrow, to wherever or whomever you send us. It´s urgent.”  
“Sure!” Yrdenne nodded vehemently. “As soon as I am back in the palace, I have to arrange todays duties, but afterwards I am free. You will have the information before dinner.” Despite knowing there was not real comfort for her friends, Yrdenne reached over the table and took Moira’s hands in hers. “I will not let you down.”  
The black-haired woman stared at the table top and nodded.  
“Just one last thing… for how long could you arrange the duties?” Ennis asked out of nothing. “Because, actually…” – he looked at his wife – “We would like you to come with us.”  
The dwarf’s words completely baffled Yrdenne. Finding a reason to leave Vizima was a long desired dream – and her worst nightmare.   
“That is… unexpected.” With a pounding heart, Yrdenne drew her hands back. An unsuccessful try to hide her trembling fingers. Their path might lead them to Oxenfurt, where she had met him again, five years ago. Where he would search for her, probably… if he was searching for her.   
“Gods beware, you don´t have to decide this right away,” Ennis raised his hands to apologize for his ambush. “But please, consider it.”  
Again, Yrdenne nodded. “I will.”

On the way back to the palace, Yrdenne pondered over Ennis’ request with a pounding heart.  
Leaving Vizima, her new home, to go search for a cure for this mysterious disease was a chance to watch out for something – someone – else. Maybe they really would return to Oxenfurt, where everything once begun. Whenever she walked through the city, Yrdenne looked at the half-timbered houses, all painted in plain white, or made of red bricks. With a part of her soul, she had always missed Oxenfurt with its colourful houses and the multicultural and intellectual atmosphere. There was nothing one could not buy in the city of the famous Academy, no matter if one longed for rare musical instruments or exotic herbs and medical ingredients. Vizima was very… different compared to that. Even in the districts where the houses were neat and the streets were not as soiled as in other areas, Vizima was grey and boring. In addition to that, the news Moira and the dwarves brought, cast a shadow on the Northern Realms. The citizens, humans and non-humans, were still recovering from the war that had torn their lives apart. Temeria had just started to heal and another conflict with Mahakam or Dol Blathanna or the gods knew whom, could shatter the fragile peace between the races.  
After a while, Yrdenne noticed that someone followed them. A tall man with red, curly hair and a red moustache and chin-beard meandered on the street, pretending to look at shop windows. As if his this was not eye-catching enough, the man wore a fancy green brocade jacket and a matching hat with a peacock feather. When Yrdenne dared to turn her head, his black lined eyes studied the wares of a bakery, but he stole glances at Yrdenne and she noticed how the man’s lips, coloured a little too pink to be natural, curled into a smile in the moment she looked at him. For a brief moment, Yrdenne stopped and looked around to make sure no one else watched her, then she quickly turned right into a narrow alley and after some steps, hid in the shadow of a door way. Only a few breaths later, the strange red-haired man entered the alley and looked around, as if he was searching for something. Or someone.  
“Good afternoon, Braith.” Yrdenne stepped out of the shadow, her arms crossed in front of her chest. At first, his soft brown eyes widened in surprise, but when the man recognized her, a smile flitted across his face. With a wide gesture, Braith took his hat off and bowed low, and for an instant the pointed tips of his ears peaked though his curly hair. Even four years after the war, this was a sign of outmost trust.  
“Ceádmil, Yrdenne. I am more than happy that I see you this morning.” the red-haired elf greeted her friendly, only to wrinkle his nose when he was upright again and found the time survey her outfit. “But darling, why do I even sew all the gorgeous tunics for you when you run around in filthy men’s shirts all day? This does not suit a woman of your position, honey.”  
“I am happy to see you, too.” Yrdenne made up her best fake smile. “And a fuzzy beard does not suit an elf, my dear.”  
With a giggle, Braith rolled his eyes and waved his hand, as if he wanted to brush the teasing away. “You know I would never hide my dwarven heritage. A bearded elf is the unicorn among horses, my love.”  
Truly, Braith was the closest creature to a unicorn Yrdenne knew. With a wide smile on her lips, a real one this time, she walked to him and hugged her friend.   
“It´s really good to see you. I could need some good news today.”  
“Oh, how lucky you are! Indeed, I have interesting news for you, darling. There is a new elf in town and my peaky-pointy ears already heard that she is a former Scoia´tael.” With every word Braith spoke, Yrdenne’s heart beat faster. Four years, nothing happened, and today everything came over her at once. But while her face lit up, her friend’s expression darkened when he continued. “I already spoke to her, invited her to visit us and see if she would like to live with us until she has established herself in town… But what she told me then was utterly unsettling.” Before he continued, Braith inhaled deeply. “Our new friend, her name is Olwen, was a member of Vernossiel’s command at Novigrad and she might know what happened to… you know. I think it´s best if you talk to her yourself.”   
Yrdenne’s heart skipped a beat. For the first time since… since ever, she had found someone who could knew anything about Iorveth. After four years, she was at a point where she barely cared if she got a sign of life or a death note. With all her soul, she wanted this endless, heart-clenching waiting to stop.   
“When can I meet her?”   
“I invited her to visit our theatre tonight. You can come after the performance,” – again he scanned Yrdenne’s appearance – “as long as you wear something more becoming than that.”  
“I will be there.”

Back in the palace, Yrdenne hurried to meet the medical staff and took care that everyone knew what to do, only to hide in her office and burry herself in paperwork afterwards. Somewhere in the back of her head she remembered a list of reputable medical professors, their expertise and their current place of residence. When she finally found it in a pile of letters, a loud squeak escaped her mouth. Excited she started to go through the names.  
“Genot Hoffalt, field surgery… no… Martha Winfield, field surgery… no… women’s health and birth medicine, no… field surgery… disorders of the mind…” The further she read, the faster beat her heart. There was no one. No expert about non-human disease or infectious disease in general. Not in Oxenfurt and nowhere else. Her finger clawed at the piece of parchment.   
“Maybe you shouldn´t search for the obvious.”   
A voice ripped her out of her thoughts.   
“Malik, you sneaky bastard!” Yrdenne slammed her hands on the table and glared at her friend. Relaxed, Malik leaned in the doorway, arms crossed and chuckle on his lips.   
“You won´t find what you are looking for in Oxenfurt. None of it.”  
Of course he knew. Of course Malik was well aware, that she would not only search for a treatment for the disease that harrowed the dwarves, once she left Vizima. After a brief check if someone was one the hallway, Malik closed the door of Yrdenne’s office, walked to her desktop and slumped on the chair in front of it.  
“If you´d ask me, I would go to Novigrad.”  
Yrdenne dropped the parchment and raised her brow.  
“You want me to go WHERE?” No other place had scarred her as deeply as Novigrad. The name alone was enough to send shivers down her spine. Instinctively, her right hand reached for her left shoulder. On rainy days, it still hurt.  
“All right, let me start from a different point. Who taught you the most about non-human medicine?”  
“Cjardeth and Gavenia.” No matter what, Yrdenne would never forget the time in the ward underneath the surface of this rat-hole of a town. Especially not her friends that went through this hell by her side.  
“I doubt any human expert, or book written by such, will help you with this.”   
“You are right, Malik… I mean, I spend a lot of time in the library of Oxenfurt and I doubt I ever read about anything like this. But Novigrad… I don´t know if I can do that. I do want to help Moira and Ennis, but…” – “But not at any costs?”  
Giving in to the guilt that crept up in her guts Yrdenne nodded. Malik sighed and shook his head.  
“Whatever you decide, you should do it quickly. I overheard that Roche wants to send a delegation to Mahakam soon, to investigate the case. The dwarves are officially blaming the elves. I will advise Moira and Ennis to leave before dawn.”  
Yrdenne took a deep breath before she answered. Being honest to herself, she made the decision in the moment Ennis asked her, independent of their destination.  
“Tell them I will be ready. But I dare you to tell anyone else!”  
“Dalayer?”   
“He must not know.”  
“I see.”

To fulfil her duty as the court physician, Yrdenne later joined the official dinner with the Mahakam delegation. Dalayer was there, too, and she had no intention to raise any suspicion about her plans. While she sat on the festive table, a knapsack with minimum requirements for the journey as well as her healer’s bag waited in her room and a substitution plan that settled the responsibilities during her absence lay on the desktop in her office.   
The only thing she needed to take care of was Braith.  
An hour to midnight she snuck out of the castle to meet her friend in his theatre.

As the director of the only theatre in Vizima, the citizens conceded him his extravagance and accepted him like he was. No one questioned that this tall, bearded man was a human. Only very few people knew who he really was, and Yrdenne was convinced his beard and the peacock-like demeanour were the only reason he survived the pogroms during the Nilfgaardian wars.   
The theatre building seemed to be rather plain from the outside, an undecorated oval building with four stories. Tonight, she arrived just when the audience left the theatre and could slip inside before Braith’s guards closed the doors. As always when Yrdenne entered the entrance hall, the pomp of velvet curtains, opulent flower arrangements and golden balustrades took her breath. She took a moment to appreciate Braith’s effort to create such a magical place before she hurried into the theatre.   
In front of the stage stood Braith in his costume and explained the architecture of his theatre with sweeping gestures to a rather unobtrusive she-elf. If Yrdenne had not known Braith so well, she would not have recognized him. The elf wore an emerald green dress, as opulent as the whole theatre interior, and Yrdenne was amazed how he managed to fill it with female curves and melon-sized breasts. The outfit was crowned with a wig of long, flaming red hair, matching his moustache and goatee. A unicorn could not have been more impressive.   
The she-elf was a plain jane compared to him, with short mouse-brown hair, slightly too big black trousers and a plain fawn shirt. Yrdenne could already imagine Braith’s rant about that outfit and his deep desire to burn these clothes in the backyard. But something about Olwen was oddly familiar.  
“Hej, beautiful ladies!” Yrdenne yelled across the room and waved. While Olwen cringed, Braith turned to her and waved with a van that matched his dress.  
“Hej hej, my love!”  
While Yrdenne crossed the theatre hall with its satin curtains and golden chandeliers to meet the two elves, she surveyed Olwen. Even though the she-elf had a plain appearance, she stood upright with a squared back and the width of her close probably concealed a few weapons. From the way she watched Yrdenne, the healer could tell this woman was a warrior.   
“Ceádmil.” Yrdenne greeted Braith and his guest. She immediately offered Olwen her hand. “Nice to meet you, my name is Yrdenne.”  
When she heard the name, Olwen’s eyes widened.   
“Aenye Bradlofrudd!” it was only a whisper.  
“Squass’me?” Yrdenne answered in elder speech, maybe Olwen did not understand common language.  
“You are Aenye Bradlofrudd.” Olwen repeated the strange name, this time louder. Braith frowned and wrinkled his nose.  
“Excuse me dear, but what is a fire assassin?”  
“She killed grandmaster Varnhelm. She ended the Order of the Flaming Rose.”  
It took Braith a moment to process Olwen’s words, then he burst out laughing.  
“Oh my love, I know Yrdenne has many secret skills, but I can assure you that she never killed a knight!”  
Appalled, Yrdenne made a step backwards, her eyes widened and a gasping cry escaped her mouth. Pain flashed through her left shoulder and she sensed the hot flames on her skin, smelled the smoke of burning books. Varnhelm.   
“I… don´t… talk about that.” Her voice cracked. With her right hand she clawed to her left wrist, dug her fingernails into her skin so deep it hurt. Breath… continue breathing… it´s long gone, he is long dead… Keep breathing…  
It was Braith who reacted quickly. With one step he was at Yrdenne’s side and embraced her, whispering words of comfort. His heavy, and sweet perfume carried her back to the presence, dispelled the scent of smoke and fire.   
“It´s all good, my love, it´s all good….”  
The memories were choking, but eventually Yrdenne pulled herself back together. Olwen waited patiently, arms crossed in front of her chest.   
“So, what does Aenye Bradlofrudd want from me?”   
Yrdenne took a deep breath to brace herself. She clenched her trembling hands. “Tell me, what happened to the Scoia´tael in Novigrad. Tell me what happened to Iorveth.”


	4. Departure

Olwen tiled her head and scanned Yrdenne’s whole body. Her clean boots, the fine leather pants and the embroidered shirt, and finally her face, the neatly braided hair. For an instant, Olwen’s gaze rested on the scar on Yrdenne’s brow.  
“I remember the rumours about Iorveth and the human healer. Some said you were his fate, others believed you were a witch that seduced him. Certainly, I did not believe anything of that. I always thought you were simply one of the rebels, a girl seeking adventures. And now you are shaking and trembling, so scared to hear the truth about his whereabouts.” A brief laughter escaped Olwen’s mouth.   
“What was between Iorveth and me is none of your business. Just tell me what happened to his unit.” There was a subliminal growl in Yrdenne’s voice.   
“Calm down, dh’oine. I probably don´t know more than you do. After the Temple fell, the surviving Scoia´tael of his unit returned to our camp. Only Eardreth was with them, he told Vernossiel that Iorveth had been called to battle somewhere else. We didn´t care. After Radovid’s death, they returned to Oxenfurt, Faoiltiarna went with them. After some months, a few of Iorveth’s warriors joined our unit again, they said he never returned and Faoiltiarna left them, too. Several of his unit tried to get to Dol Blathanna, because they feared Emhyr var Emreis. Many of our unit followed them, rumours said Enid an Gleanna would forgive those who were willing to renounce the Scoia´tael. They were never seen again, nor heard of. The idea of the Scoia´tael fell apart, piece by piece. If even our greatest leaders left, or had died, what was left for us? The war was over. At least, Emhyr’s laws protect the non-humans in the Northern Realms now.” Olwen sighed and dropped her shoulders. “See, nothing really happened to us. We just... quit.”  
Yrdenne swallowed and stared at the ground. For nothing in the world the Iorveth she knew would abandon his unit. Not even for her. “Thank you, Olwen. For being honest.”   
The she-elf shrugged her shoulders.   
“We all expected the end of the Scoia´tael to be different. I am sure some of us are still out there, ambushing convois and killing Nilfgaardians. But after all, Nilfgaard brought a security for non-humans we did not have before.” Olwen blew a strand of hair out of her face. “Even I decided to move to Tretogor. And if it wasn´t for the sickness, I would still be there.”  
Olwen’s last words rang a bell, alarmed Yrdenne raised her head and met Olwen’s gaze. Braith’s eyes narrowed to slits.   
“What sickness?” Braith asked with a deep voice, his stern face did not match his dress anymore.  
“Nothing special… just… people are getting sick. Some die, others don´t. It got worse lately, and I heard that a whole village was found dead, presumably killed by some desperate Scoia´tael. The humans start blaming the non-humans again… So I decided that I better get my arse away from Tretogor.” Olwen tried to sound careless, but the way she kneaded her fingers told Yrdenne that the former Scoia´tael was worried.   
“Why didn´t you try to go to Dol Blathanna?” Yrdenne asked suspiciously.   
“Am I insane? No one returned from there, no one! And their delegates and ambassadors in Tretogor don´t give a horse-shit about their kind. I´d rather go to Mahakam than to that elitist valley of sterile elders.” Olwen snorted and crossed her arms before her chest.  
“I see.” Yrdenne nodded. Delegates from Dol Blathanna and a spreading disease… this sounded too familiar. Maybe, after all, there was some truth in Brouver’s suspicion.  
“Thank you again, Olwen. It was a good decision to come to Vizima, the Lady Anaïs La Valette is a friend of the non-humans. You are safe here.”  
Finally, a thin smile spread on Olwen’s face. To Yrdenne, the few newcomers that joined Braith’s theatre always seemed so haunted and exhausted. The fierce she-elf was no exception to this. Brotherly, the theatre director laid an arm around Olwen’s shoulders with a wide grin.  
“You will make a great security guard here, or a stage girl, if you desire.”  
This time it was Yrdenne who laughed, she truly could imagine Olwen in a pink tutu, chasing Braith with a butcher’s knife for putting her into it.   
“Seems like a bright future lays ahead for your theatre, Braith.” Yrdenne mused with a chuckle. “If you don´t mind, I will return to the palace now. I have to pack some things up… Braith, I will not be around the upcoming weeks. I will be… travelling.”  
The grin on Braith’s face remained, but his green eyes stopped smiling.  
“Where will you go?”  
“Northern.”

Back in the castle, Yrdenne hurried back to the banquett hall, hoping that the Mahakam delegates and, most of all, Malik were still there. Indeed, despite the late hour, several dwarves and some nobles and officials of Vizima were still around, most of them drunk. Malik wasn´t among them. Cursing, she twirled around and started running. She had to tell Malik about the sickness in Tretogor before she left with Moira and Ennis. If she did not find him now, she had to leave him a note, which could very well end in the hands of the wrong person. When she reached Malik’s room, Yrdenne took some instants to catch her breath, before she gently knocked at the door.  
No response. Yrdenne knocked again, a little more demanding. But still no response. After she glanced left and right over her shoulders to make sure no one else was around, Yrdenne fished a key out of her pocket and unlocked the door to Malik’s room. The room was abandoned. Malik was still somewhere, probably taking care of something.   
Some vague feeling told Yrdenne that the information about Tretogor were important for the Mahakam-issue, but whom else could she trust if not Malik?  
Upset and pondering how she could reach Malik, Yrdenne returned to her room.   
When she reached it, Yrdenne noticed that the door was unlocked, and when she slowly pushed the door wing open, she found someone sitting at her desk. A flickering oil lamp lit the room.   
For an instant, Yrdenne wondered if he had changed his formal clothing for the plain trousers and the cosy knitted blue sweater because he knew how much she liked it – or because it was already past midnight. Whatever he had to say, it would not be pleasant. Yrdenne’s throat bobbed when she swallowed.  
“I am afraid with the increasing numbers of explanations you owe me; this is going to be a long night.” Dalayer stood up and crossed his arms in front of his chest and nodded at the packed knapsack that lay on the table. “Let´s start with: What is this?”  
Yrdenne clenched her jaws and closed the door. “I don´t owe you anything. Anyway, that´s my baggage.”  
Dalayer’s shoulders dropped and his expression was so heartbroken that Yrdenne did not dare to meet his gaze.  
“And you did not found it necessary to tell me? Please say that you are not already leaving tomorrow. Where will you go?”  
Yrdenne’s right hand reached for her left wrist, her fingers clawed into her skin. “Moira and Ennis need my help and we will set out before sunrise.”   
With a shaking head the blond knight made a step towards her and raised his hand, but then he hesitated. Since Novigrad, he was careful about touching her. He crossed his arms in front of his chest.  
“Where will you go?” He asked again.  
Finally, Yrdenne forced herself to look into his torn, storm grey eyes.  
“I don´t know where our path takes us and I don´t know for how long I will be gone. I thought it´s better if you don´t know in advance.”  
“Were you scared that I’d come with you? Or that I’d try to make you stay?” Dalayer raised is eyebrows. “You are going to search for him, don´t you?”  
“This morning you said I had to make a commitment. And you were right. I can´t continue to take your love whenever I need it, but not give anything back. But I can´t… I can´t move on as long as there is a chance that Iorveth is out there.” Yrdenne’s shoulders dropped and she looked at the ground. She inhaled deeply before she continued, as if it wasn´t true unless she spoke it out loud. “When I made the decision to leave, I did not plan to search for him. But today, I heard rumours that Iorveth is dead. The Scoia´tael believe he fell in battle, years ago. He never returned to his unit. I need to know the truth.”  
A brief laughter escaped Dalayer’s lips. “It´s part of his attitude to make people believe he´s dead. There rumours are as old as himself.” Then he noticed how she wrapped the arms around her body, trying to find hold, trying not to fall apart. Dalayer sighed. “Fine, search for him if you need to. I cannot promise to wait until you figured thigs out, though.”  
Yrdenne met his gaze and nodded, she knew that this path was meant for her alone.   
“Is this a farewell then?”  
“Yes, it is.”   
The urge to throw her arms around Dalayer and kiss him rose in Yrdenne’s chest. It was the breath-taking feeling of loneliness, that dragged her towards him again. This time, she fought it down, even though it was painful.  
“Good bye, Dalayer.”  
“Farewell, Yrdenne. I hope, whatever you find, it makes things easier for you. And me.”  
With these words, he left her alone.

After a few hours of restless, shallow sleep with crawling nightmares, Yrdenne stood up and got ready for the journey. She decided to take her bow and the elvish sword with her, just in case she had to go hunting – or to fight for her life. Wrapped in a long, dark grey cloak she snuck through the hallways of the castle of Vizima to the royal stables.   
Moira and Ennis were already there, together with two other dwarves Yrdenne remembered from the banquet last night, the four were packing the ponys. It turned out that they were Ennis cousin Irma, who basically looked like s a less bearded version of Ennis, and her wife, a fierce she-dwarf with straight, black hair, tan skin and almond shaped eyes. Yrdenne remembered that Moira had told her that someone in Ennis’ family came from a mine far in the East.  
“Yrdenne, good to see you!” Ennis greeted her with a tried smile. “You remember my cousin Irma, she and her wife Mo Chou will accompany us. Five axes are better than three.”  
“Blades.” Mo Chou corrected him and patted at the sword sheath hanging from her belt. Yrdenne noticed that the she-dwarf wore two sheaths, one on each side. “Good morning, Yrdenne. Nice to meet you. Please call me Mo.” With a brief smile, Mo nodded at Yrdenne and continued to saddle her pony.  
“Good morning Ennis, Irma, Mo.” Yrdenne waved at the dwarves. “Hej Moira.”  
“Hej Yrdie, thank you for coming with us. Your horse is over there, the black one. Malik chose him for you and advised to have him saddled. His name is Falk.” Moira waved at her with a broad smile. Wearing men’s clothes, mail and her hair tied back in a high bun, she looked a lot like her brother, and she had the same mischievous sparkle in her eyes. Moira hurried to Yrdenne and embraced her friend. “My horse is ready; do you need help tying your baggage to the harness?”  
“Thank you, but I don´t have much. I can manage.” Yrdenne patted Moira’s back before she let go of her.   
In no time, two horses and four ponys – one for each dwarf and one for provisions – were saddled and packed, and the group led them out of the stables.   
The court of Vizima was still sleeping and the castle as well as the surrounding town were dead silent. Thick and foggy clouds covered the sky and the lawn of the palace gardens lay under a blanket of dew. The air was wet and so cold that the breath of horses, dwarves and humans rose steaming into the air.  
Yrdenne looked at the high tower of the castle and wondered, if she ever saw it again. In the moment she reached for the saddle and wanted to mount her gelding, Yrdenne heart someone running towards them.  
Afraid it was a guard to hold her back from leaving, Yrdenne turned around. Astonished she recognized the man who hurried across the court. It was Dalayer.  
He was gasping for breath when he reached Yrdenne. “I am… sorry… for… tonight.”   
“Hej…. Catch a breath!” Yrdenne replied gently. Her fellows were already on the backs of their mounts and waited a stone throw away. Hesitating, she made a step towards Dalayer and laid her hand on his chest. “It´s alright. I understand you. There is nothing to –“ before she could finish the sentence, Dalayer took her face in both hands and brought his face halfway to hers.   
One last time, Yrdenne thought, and kissed him.   
“I love you.” He murmured against her lips. Even though it was hard, Yrdenne pulled back and met his gaze.  
“Dalayer… please don´t make it worse….” Her voice was only a whisper. Dalayer did not let go of her face and leant his brow against hers.  
“I just want you to know this.”  
There was nothing Yrdenne could reply. She laid her hands on his shoulders and softly pushed him away.  
“I have to leave, now.”  
Dalayer swallowed and nodded.   
“But you might need this.” He raised his hand, and to Yrdenne’s surprise it held a letter with the royal sigils.   
“What… is that?” She frowned.  
“An official letter that identifies you as the court healer of Temeria on a very important study journey.” Dalayer explained, and when he noticed Yrdennes’s sceptical look he added: “One of the writers owed me. Shall I put it in your bag?”  
Yrdenne nodded, she didn´t know what to say. A letter like this could be a real door opener.  
With a gentle smile Dalayer turned to her horse, that patiently waited for his rider with reins hanging to the ground. Dalayer picked them up and patted the geldings neck. “You are a good horse, aren´t you? Take good care of her.”   
A soft smile flitted across Yrdenne’s face when she watched Dalayer. The young man had a good heart and was kind to every breathing being, he deserved better than her. He deserved someone who actually loved him back.  
She turned her back on Dalayer and waited for him to store the letter in her knapsack. When he closed the buckles of the bag again, Dalayer stepped to Yrdenne’s left and clasped his hands to support her knee. “Ready?”  
Yrdenne nodded, and mounted her horse.  
“Good bye, Dalayer.”  
“Come back soon, Yrdenne.”  
Suddenly, Yrdenne felt a lump in her throat. Again, she nodded, unable to phrase a response. The farewell lay heavy on her chest, but she spurred her horse to follow Moira, Ennis and the dwarven couple. In silence, they left the court of the castle and made their way to the town wall.  
At the big gate, the guards gave way and opened the huge portal for them. When they passed it, Yrdenne turned around one last time and gazed at the town and the high tower of the castle. Deep inside she knew she would not return to Vizima for a long time.   
Stubborn, she shook the dark thoughts off and caught up with Ennis and Moira.  
“Heja! Let´s go Northern!”


	5. The Fetching Lily

Few people travelled Northern these days. But already on the first day, Yrdenne noticed how many people went towards Vizima, or better: away from Redania. And the road became more crowded the closer they came to the Pontar, the border river between Temeria and Redania. She spotted families with carriages full of their belongings, sometimes couples with infants carried by the exhausted mothers. And among them were both humans and non-humans, and their accent revealed most of them were Redanian. Yrdenne thought of what Olwen had told her.  
“They are fleeling.” Mo stated when another family of ten eight individuals passed them. Even though she whispered towards her companions, a young man grimly met her gaze and spit on the ground. Something else increased the further the group travelled: The hostile looks at the dwarves. While in the periphery of Vizima, everyone greeted more or less friendly, in Northern Redania the people did not even try to hide their angry or scared glares at Ennis, Irma and Mo.   
New anti-discriminations laws protected non-humans, but the prejudice against them was still stuck in the mind-set of the people. The three dwarves returned the friendly greetings with a smile and tried hard to ignore the muttered curses of others. They did their best to repel the hostility. But every time a human passed them and openly showed their scorn, Yrdenne did not know how to react and felt embarrassed by the behaviour of her fellow humans.

“Go where you came from, rockfuckers!” An old man standing in front of a shabby house raised his pitchfork when they passed his gound.  
“Oh dear… rockfucker is new,” Ennis sighed and shock his head when the man was out of hearing range.  
“It wasn´t that bad when we left Oxenfurt,” mused Yrdenne. A cold shiver crawled down her spine.  
“And it won´t get any better in Redania,” stated Moira, “The next village is the last before the Pontar. We shouldn´t sleep in the woods tonight, I don´t trust this area. We have to find an inn, restock our provisions and as soon as we are over that damn river we head straight towards Tretogor.”  
“You don´t want to stay in Rinde?” asked Irma.  
Moira shock her head.   
“No, Rinde is too big and we don´t have friends there. And it´s Redanian territory. I would have preferred to go to Oxenfurt, and not Tretogor, anyway.” The blackhaired woman shot a glance at Yrdenne. “Something is odd in Redania.”  
Yrdenne clenched her jaws. She had not told her friends why exactly she needed to go to Tretogor first, and that she had no hope to find answers in Oxenfurt.   
“Let´s hope the innkeepers are happier to see us than this old guy,” Mo said with a grin and nodded towards the old man, who stills stood at the road with his pitchfork and watched them, as if to make sure they continued their path.

Mo’s words seemed to become a more unrealistic wish with every door the knocked at. When the fourth innkeeper sent them away, claiming all rooms were taken and even the stables where full, they started to realize that, whatever was odd in Redania, already spread on this side of the Pontar.   
“I haven´t experienced something like that since the war,” Ennis shrugged his shoulders, “We have been to Redania last year and even though people weren´t overly friendly, we never had problems to find an inn.”  
“Maybe they are so crowded because so many are travelling, you saw all the people on the streets,” Irma replied with a soft smile and laid her hand on Ennis’ shoulder. “And the sun is already setting, we are quite late.”  
But Ennis shock his head. “The last inn was a rat hole and in the tavern sat only five people. Obviously, we are not the kind of guests he´d like to accommodate.”  
With a grin, Moira stepped next to her husband and nudged him with her elbow.  
“Then we have to pretend to be the guests someone would like to host. I think there is another inn at the end of the road. Yrdenne, hurry up! The others will follow us in a few minutes.”  
Without any further explanation, Moira untied the reigns of her horse from the horse stand, mounted and rode off. Baffled, the dwarves and Yrdenne watched her leaving them behind. A stone throw away, Moira, halted and turned around. “Yrdenne, are you coming?”  
Yrdenne looked at the dwarves, shrugged her shoulders and got her horse to follow her friend. Moira awaited her with a very malik-ish grin. When Yrdenne opened her mouth to ask what the hell Moira planned, her friend only raised her hand.  
“We are going to get some nice and cosy rooms. The Inn down the road is quite expensive and the innkeeper is a nosy, bitchy lady. Let me talk and try to look as important as you can.”  
“Important?” Yrdenne raised her eyebrows, but Moira owed her a reply. 

The inn Moira mentioned looked indeed quite fancy. An opulently decorated sign read “The fetching Lily”. It was a huge, white manor with a big front yard, surrounded by an iron fence. The house had huge windows, a dark blue two winged front door, and turrets on the corners. It was that sort of inn Yrdenne would have stayed in on a journey as part of the entourage of Lady Anaïs La Valette. A servant stood at the roofed horse stand in front of the house and a sentinel guarded the door. Moira descended first and did not even care if the servant to the reigns of her horse. He did it without question. Quickly, Moira hurried to Yrdenne and helped her off Falk’s back.   
“Take the horses into the stable and give them the good oats, not the cheap stuff,” Moira snarled at the servant and proceeded to guide Yrdenne to the house, her back squared and her head up high.  
“What are we doing?” hissed Yrdenne, but Moira did not answer. When the sentinel saw them, he immediately stepped aside and held the door open.  
Inside, they walked through a short hall that ended at another two winged door, and another servant held it open for the two women when Moira greeted him with a not. Yrdenne just followed her wordless. Behind the second door was a huge tavern with high ceilings carried by four white columns. Actually, calling it a tavern was an understatement, it was more of a fancy restaurant. The room was lit by several chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and standing on the tables, that all were covered with a white table sheet. The guests had hushed conversations and dined with silver cutlery off white plates. Huge paintings of old gods and barely dressed, dancing folks covered the walls and thick blue velvet curtains framed the windows. A cosy fire burnt in a huge fireplace, crowned by the head of a stuffed bear.  
At the back was a long bar made from carved wood. It was painted dark blue, decorated with white ornaments. The two barmen wore dark blue shirts with embroidery, behind them a shelf with different spirits from all over the continent and a variety of different mugs – and crystal glasses! Yrdenne had never seen a tavern with crystal drinking glasses.   
Before Moira and Yrdenne could make another step into the tavern – or better, dining hall – a middle-aged woman wearing a dark blue dress approached them quickly. With every step, her blond curls bounced on her shoulders and her dark brown eyes watched the two young women suspiciously.   
“My name is Lady Bjorenn, I am the owner of this resort. How can I help you?” the woman said in a honeyed tone and smiled. She cocked her head and her eyes met Yrdenne’s, and they weren´t as friendly as her voice.  
Moira again squared her back and raised her chin.  
“I am the escort of Lady Yrdenne,” – Moira gestured at Yrdenne – “She is the court physician and confident of Lady Anaïs La Valette from Vizima. Her highness is planning a journey and sent Lady Yrdenne to examine if your… resort meets the royal standards.”  
Yrdenne bite her lip to not start laughing. So, that was indeed Moira’s plan: Lady Anaïs entourage. But Yrdenne was sure Lady Bjorenn would never buy this story. Not without a proof.  
“Can you identify yourselves?”   
There we go, thought Yrdenne and prepared herself to be thrown out again.  
“Sure,” answered Moira to her surprise and fished a piece of paper out of the bag she carried. It was a parchment envelop with a blue wax seal, the official seal of Temeria. And then it fell from Yrdenne’s eyes: she had a similar letter, too! The one Dalayer had given to her! It seemed like Moira, or perhaps Malik, knew a court writer who owed them, too.  
Lady Bjorenn did not even bat an eye. She took the envelope, pulled the letter out, scanned the additional wax seal that signed the document and read it carefully.  
After some moments of silence, she looked up and cleared her throat.  
“I see. One room, or two?”   
“Actually, Lady Yrdennes attendance is still outside taking care of the horses. My husband, his cousin and her spouse will be here in a minute. Lady Yrdenne has a single room,” Mora answered with a fake smile on her lips.  
Lady Bjorenn nodded and gestured at a table close to the fireplace. “Please have a seat and have some refreshments. Today, we offer is fresh fish or deer for dinner.”  
In that moment, the servant entered the room. He was as pale as a ghost and his eyed were wide.   
“Lady Bjorenn... We... we have some… unsolicited guests waiting outside.” His fingers were picking at the seam of his jacket. “Dwarves.” His throat bobbed.  
The face of Lady Bjorenn darkened and there was a flicker in her eyes. “I will take care of this.”  
“Actually, if I might interfere, that is our entourage. Ennis Els from Mahakam, son of chieftain Barclay Els, is my husband and with him is Irma Hoog, the daughter of the elder Brouver Hoog, and her wife.”  
This time, lady Bjorenn did bat an eye. She raised her eyebrows and scanned Moira’s and Yrdenne’s faces. An instant later, she regained her composure and forced herself to simper.  
“They are welcome, Errol. Take good care of their horses!” she ordered, and tried hard so sound kind. But even though she tried to hide it, Yrdenne noticed a hiss in Lady Bjorenn’s voice that raised her suspicion.   
The other guests of The Fetching Lily craned to catch a glimpse of the unusual party, or at maybe even a snippet of their conversation. Lady Bjorenn had them seated at a table close to the bar, half hidden by one of the columns that supported the ceiling.  
“I don´t like her.” Stated Mo’ while she poked her fish with a fork.   
“You don´t have to like her, dear. You just have to sleep here,” Irma replied while she cut a potato in half. Yrdenne didn´t know that she was, indeed, the daughter of Brouver Hoog. That gave their little adventure a whole new twist.   
“I am not sure if we will survive to sleep here,” Mo answered before she shoved a piece of said fish into her mouth.   
In the corner of her eye, Yrdenne saw that Lady Bjorenn was watching them from the other side of the room, arms crossed in front of her chest. One of her servants came and whispered something into her ear, and a smile spread on the Lady’s lips.   
Ennis glanced at Moira, then at Irma and Yrdenne. Moira cleared her throat. Irma nodded, barely visible. They saw it, too. Ennis frowned and took a sip of his beer.   
“We will finish our meal. Mo, Yrdenne, and I will go upstairs to take the rooms. Moira and Irma, you will have another drink. See if the barmen are chatty. After midnight, when everyone else is asleep, we will meet in the biggest bedroom.” 

Yrdenne’s room was at the very end of a long corridor. After she entered, she carefully closed the door behind her, dropped her knapsack and her healers bag right where she stood and sunk down to her knees. It was the first night they wouldn´t camp outside. The first time she was all alone since they had left Vizima.  
With trembling fingers her hand reached for her left wrist and her fingers dug into her skin until it hurt. Her heartrate increased and she felt like a beast was raging in her chest. Alone. She was all alone in this too big room, in a hostile and strange house. Moira had Ennis, and Irma was with Mo, but she was alone. The eyes of this woman, Lady Bjorenn, reminded her too much of Varnhelm. So soft and warm and cruel and full of betrayal. Breathing, she had to focus on her breathing. She felt so lost in this too big room, and still the walls were so narrow.  
Yrdenne’s eyes flitted from the huge four-poster bed to the writing table with the flickering oil lmap further to the dark blue sofa with embroidered throw pillows and a white woollen blanket. At the wall hung a painting of a pale sickish looking boy with a piglet on his lap, and it seemed as he was silently judging her. The curtains were closed, they were made from the same, thick blue velvet than all the other curtains in the manor. Shivering, Yrdenne started to crawl towards the sofa.   
She had less than four hours to calm down and to rest. When she reached the sofa, she pulled herself up on the cushion and reached for the blanket. The wool felt rough and itchy when she wrapped it around her shoulders, but it would keep her warm.   
They just had to get out of this house without causing trouble, and soon she they would be in Tretogor. The sooner they found the cause, and maybe even a cure for this mysterious disease, the sooner she could start searching for Iorveth.


	6. Appeal for Help

Yrdenne did not know for how long she just sat in that room, her arms wrapped around her knees and covered by the thick woollen blanket. She just stared at the flickering flame of the oil lamp and tried to ignore the lurking shadows in the corners. She did not even know why being in this opulent decorated room reminded her so much of Novigrad. After a while, her gaze wandered about, from her bags that still lay where she had dropped them next to the door, to the painting of the creepy boy on who seemed to be watching her, to the huge bed. What was she doing here?  
Out of nothing, a shy knock at the door ripped her mind out of the past. Was is past midnight already? Too puzzled to react, Yrdenne stared at the door. After a few breaths, the unknown visitor knocked again, more vehement this time. Yrdenne flinched and sat up straight. She realized quickly that if it was one of her fellows, they would have probably called her name. Hastily, she put the blanket aside, squared her back and stroked loose hair out of her face.  
“I am awake, come in!”  
Holding her breath, Yrdenne watched how the door knob turned, the door was opened slowly and someone slipped through the door crack. The person who entered her room with a few gracile steps and carefully closed the door behind them was indeed none of Yrdenne’s friends.  
It was a young woman with long strawberry blond hair in a tight braid, perhaps sixteen or seventeen years old, and she wore a dark blue dress with embroidery similar to the shirts of the servants. A house maid of The Fetching Lily. Even in the dim light of the oil lamp, Yrdenne noticed her slender limbs and the high cheekbones, and for an instant she thought the woman was an elf. But her ears were round, not pointed.  
Yrdenne cleared her throat. “How can I help you?”  
The woman sweeped a curtsey and lowered her gaze.  
“Please excuse, I am very sorry to bother you that late. Our Lady Bjorenn is not feeling well, and since you are a healer, she kindly requests counselling. Are you available?”  
It was obvious that Yrdenne was, since she sat on the couch completely dressed. And even if she had been sleeping, she had answered the door and her oath as a medic required her to help everyone in need. Yrdenne clenched her jaw. What a clever trick of Lady Bjorenn to lure her away, the others wouldn´t know where she was when they came. And all of her weapons were tied to the saddle of her horse. How clever she had been!  
“Sure,” Yrdenne replied and stood up. For an instant she pondered if she should leave a note for her friends, but decided that it would be too obvious. For the time being, she had to rely on the sincerity of the appeal for help. To her surprise, a relieved smile flitted across the woman’s face.  
“Please follow me to the Lady’s rooms. Shall I carry your bag?”  
“No, thank you,” Yrdenne reached for her healer’s bag, and after a moment of hesitation for her knapsack, too. “I´d rather carry it myself.”

Yrdenne expected the rooms of Lady Bjorenn to be somewhere within the manor because the maid did not carry a candle or a lamp. Her suspicion rose when the maid led her downstairs, into the kitchen and through a door that lead into the backyard. An uneasy feeling rose in her guts. Where the hell was this woman taking her? Yrdenne cursed to herself, she should have left a note for Moira.  
The maid walked straight towards a small modest house next to the stables. The wood was not painted and in the darkness of the night it looked rather shabby compared to the manor. Yrdenne questioned that Lady Bjorenn would live in that cabin, when she had plenty of opulent furnished rooms within the manor.  
There was no light inside the house, at least, all the windows to the front were pitch black.  
The maid fished a keyring out of the pockets of her dress, unlocked the door and held it open. Yrdenne hesitated a moment. She could not see what was inside the house, only in the distance there was something like a light shimmer. Maybe another door, maybe just a reflection in a mirror. When Yrdenne swallowed, she felt a lump in her throat.  
“Please, hurry,” whispered the maid and looked over her shoulder. Either they had a problem with ghouls in the garden, or she did not want to be seen.  
Yrdenne did how she was told and entered the house. The maid followed her, but when she closed the door, even the last bit of light vanished. And the cling of her keys followed by a click told Yrdenne that she was trapped. Her hands became sweaty and without even wanting it, her right hand clawed at her left wrist. Sensing her fingernails pinching her skin kept her from freaking out.  
She was utterly relieved when the dim shimmer in the darkness ahead grew. Another door was opened and light flooded the corridor they were in. Yrdenne did not think twice and hurried towards the light, she wanted to get out of the choking black. She would manage to deal with whatever was awaiting her.

“Welcome in my humble home, healer Yrdenne,” spoke a soft voice. Lady Bjorenn.  
Yrdenne found herself in a very cosy and surprisingly spacy bedroom. The courtains were of heavy purple fabric, but besides a very plain bed with white sheets, a simple and small dining table with three chairs and a worn off couch the room was empty. No decorations and no paintings on the wall. Just a cosy fireside with a crackling fire, and a vase with dried flowers on the mantelshelf. The Lady, still wearing the same dress as earlier, stood in the center of the room, hands folded in front of her stomach. She did not smile and her eyes were cold. The maid entered the room behind her, silently closed the door and positioned herself a few steps aside.  
Yrdenne nodded. “Lady Bjorenn. Your maid told me you need medical assistance, so here I am.” At first, she wanted to add that the Lady did, in fact, did not look very sick. But she kept quiet.  
“Thank you for coming here at such a late hour. I am aware that my request is unsual. But before I show you what is afflicting me, could I maybe see your documents? My… condition requires a certain level of trust.”  
Yrdenne raised her eyebrows. At least, there was no space for someone to hide in this room.  
“Please”, insisted Lady Bjorenn again and pointed at the table.  
Yrdenne did not like being trapped in this house, the situation was odd and she started wondering if she might survive the night. For now, she would play along to figure out what this nightly counselling was about.  
Knowing that at least two pairs of eyes watched her every movement, Yrdenne put her healer’s bag on the table and set her knapsack down to search for Dalayer’s letter. Realizing that she did not even know what was written in the document, she cursed her carelessness again. Being a pampered court physician had made her way too incautious to go on a journey like this. After some rummaging in her bag, the found the letter in a side pocket together with a bottle of dried herbs and a small leather pouch she did not even remember she owned.  
Hoping that the Lady Bjorenn did not notice how nervous she was, Yrdenne handed her the letter.  
Lady Bjorenn read the document with arched eyebrows. The whole room was dead silent.  
“Interesting,” mumbled Lady Bjorenn when she finished. “You studied in Oxenfurt and served in the Nilfgaardian war. And you are indeed the court physician and confident of Lady Anaïs La Valette. And even more, you are so important that she personally orders to grant you any support without questions asked. I know people who would kill for a document like that.”  
Yrdenne swallowed. How the hell did Dalayer manage to get a written permit of Anaïs?  
“And if the wrong people find this with you, they will kill you simply for being a member of the Temerian court.”  
Yrdennes heartrate increased. Was that a threat?  
“They might try, but we are still on Temerian territory” – “Oh, young healer, this might be Temerian territory on the map. But those who rule in this area wear different colors.”  
Without further explanations, Lady Bjorenn stuffed the letter in her pocket, nodded at her maid and turned around. Wordless, Yrdenne watched how the maid unbuttoned her mistress’s dress. When she pulled it down and revealed the back of Lady Bjorenn, Yrdenne gasped for breath.  
Large, almost black bruises and dark red streaks, some crusted with blood, covered the skin of the women. Someone had not only beaten her up, but lashed Bjorenn. Yrdenne made a step towards her and noticed that some of the bruises were already healing, while others were fresh. Whatever had happened to her, it happened repeatedly.  
“I… I am sorry,” whispered Yrdenne and stepped closer to investigate the wounds. “Do you allow me to touch you? I have a salve for… injuries like that.”  
“For beaten women?” Bjorenn puffed, but still held her head up high. “Yes, please. That´s one reason I called for you. But there are… information I need you to know.”  
“Tell me everything, it might take a while,” Yrdenne said and went to get an herbal tincture and salve from her healer’s bag. She was afraid of the things Lady Bjorenn might tell her, but she also knew that whatever it was, it would help to solve the puzzle of that mysterious disease. While she started to dab some salve on the open cuts of the leash, Lady Bjorenn continued with her story.  
“Since Radovid fell, we feared being so close to the Nilfgaardian occupiers. At first, everything was silent and peaceful, but last year the danger came here from Redania. A few weeks after the first farm fell to the illness, black-armored units started to roam the riversides of the Pontar. The black-armored men round-up a family of halflings that lived close to said farm, burnt their houses and slaughtered them, claiming the non-humans had brought the disease from Redania. Nobody knows who sent them to do that. They came over the Pontar, some say they are Nilfgaardian soldiers that followed the illness all the way from Tretogor. But despite their black armour, they don´t wear the Nilfgaardian sun, nor do they wear Redanian colours.”  
Yrdenne felt a lump in her throad. Black armour, she had seen that before. But the elves that had burnt her home carried the golden sun of Nilfgaard next to the three silver lightning bolts of the Vrihedd Brigade.  
“Are these… black armoured warriors human?”  
Lady Bjorenn answered with a nod.  
“Yes, at least I haven´t heard the opposite. And after they finished their cruel work, they were rarely seen. At first, it stayed quiet. But when a merchant and his family wasted away after he returned from Tretogor, and the child of their neighbours fell sick, too, the hostility against non-humans rose. People started selling out their neighbours and friends to the black-armored. Some call them Dark Guardians, even though they are anything but that. They are driven by a malevolent force.”  
“Only to warn you, I have to apply a tincture. It might feel a bit cold,” Yrdenne muttered and soaked a clean cotton cloth with a darkish brown liquid. “Did they… did these men do this to you?”  
Lady Bjorenn stiffened and inhaled deeply, and Yrdenne could not tell if because of the cold liquid that moistened her skin, or because of Yrdenne’s inappropriate question.   
“No, they just spread hatred. After the Nilfgaardian war, I hired non-humans as servants and tried to give them a good life. It´s the least I could to after what was done to them. This is my reward, given to me by Temerian guards.”  
Speechless, Yrdenne stared at the back of Lady Bjorenn. How was it possible that the Temerian court did not know of this? And, if they knew, why had no one interfered, or at least told them before they left? And: how could she be so wrong about Lady Bjorenn? When Yrdenne switched her gaze to the maid, she saw that her soft brown eyes were filled with tears.  
Lady Bjorenn continued with a firm voice. “The non-humans who couldn´t escape the black-armored were caught and brought the-gods-know where. No one returned. My daughter was lucky that we cut her ears when she was a child. If anyone knew what she is, knew who her father was, she would not be with me anymore.”  
Yrdenne’s eyes widened. The strawberry blond maid! Her first impression was right; the maid – Bjorenn’s daughter – was a half-elf! How painful must it have been to cut her ears…? During the war, Yrdenne had heard rumours that some people would do this to protect their children, but she had never actually seen it.  
Even though she felt like something choked her, Yrdenne found the strength to ask what burnt on her tongue.  
“Why are you telling me this? What is this all about?”

Lady Bjorenn turned around, she held her dress to cover her chest. She slightly cocked her head when she answered.  
“The court healer of a non-human friendly court sent Northern into a region pestered by a mysterious illness presumably spread by non-humans, with dwarves as company. Even the dumbest man must recognize that your journey through these lands is no coincidence. You can bet that as soon as the black-armored hear of you, they will come for you and your entourage.  
They already knocked at my door when you had dinner. Luckily my servants could lead them into believing you weren´t here. However, if they find out that you are here or only see you leaving my house, they might very well burn the whole manor down, with everyone who´s inside. You endanger us all.”  
In that moment, Yrdenne heard noises of several pairs of heavy boots in the hallway. Someone entered the cabin! Startled she made a few steps backwards and stared at the door.  
“Let me warn you! If you try to kill us, you won´t make it out of here alive!” snarled a female voice. Mo!  
The door swung open and, one after another, all of Yrdenne’s four companions stumbled into the bedroom, that suddenly did not seem to be that spacy anymore. They were followed by the sentinel who had guarded the entrance door at their arrival.  
“Yrdenne!”, Moira was the first to see her.  
“What is this old hag doing here?”, brawled Ennis when he spotted lady Bjorenn.  
“Don´t fucking touch me!”, growled Mo when the sentinel tried to shove her a bit further into the room.  
“Please, calm down,” when Lady Bjorenn spoke up, Moira and the dwarves fell silent. “No one will harm you here. Your friend and I will explain everything, if you allow us.”  
“Why should we trust you?”, snarled Mo and switched her eyes from Lady Bjorenn to Yrdenne.  
“Because I do. We need to get out of here unseen, and Lady Bjorenn is willing to help us.”  
The dwarves frowned and exchanged worried looks, but Moira stepped up to Yrdenne.   
“I am sure you have your reasons. But how do we get out of here unseen? When we came down here, we saw men waiting on the road in front of The Fetching Lily.”  
“We will guide you through a secret tunnel. The entrance is in this house, and it will lead you to an abandoned barn on an overgrown field. But first, you need to know who is after you.”  
***

“So much about getting some rest and refilling provisions,” muttered Ennis into his beard.  
“It could be worse. We could be dead,” said Irma and sighed.  
“We are in the middle of nowhere. In a forest with uneven ground. In the middle of the night. We don´t have horses anymore. And I did not sleep yet!”  
Even though no one would see it, Yrdenne nodded to back Ennis words. Even the light bow she carried over her shoulder now felt heavy and her exhaustion reached a point where she did not care much if anyone murdered her in her sleep. But then someone reached for her hand and gently squeezed it. It was Moira. Wordless, her friend took the bedroll Yrdenne was carrying in her arms.  
“We will reach the cave my mother mentioned soon. It will be safe enough to rest,” whispered a soft voice. Lady Bjorenn had sent her daughter, Ailidh, with them. Yrdenne wondered if the young woman had night vision, because she led the group straight and steady through the dark of the night.


	7. The Black Horseman

It was the beautiful song of a blackbird that woke Yrdenne at dawn. For an instant, she believed all what happened the previous night was a dream. Slowly, she realized that she lay in the opening of a cave and that a young strawberry-blond woman sat next to her watching the forest awake. Before they left The Fetching Lily, Ailidh had changed her dark blue dress for men’s clothing, simple brown woollen trousers, a greyish knitted sweater and royal blue gugel. Despite her round ears, she looked very elvish now. Almost like a Scoia’tael.  
Yrdenne closed her eyes again and inhaled deeply to fight the rising nausea. It begun again, they had enemies now. And not those in Dol Blathanna who presumably brought the strange illness to Mahakam, but here, in Northern Temeria. Black armored mercenaries that hunted for non-humans. And, if she believed Lady Bjorenn, for them.   
When Ailidh noticed Yrdenne was awake, the young woman met her gaze and smiled softly.  
“Did you sleep well, healer?”  
Yrdenne peeled herself from the bedroll and sat up.   
“Sort of. It´s still hard to grasp what happened… and that we didn´t know how bad the situation already is.” The words of Lady Bjorenn about the illness, the black-armoured and the rising hatred and violence against non-humans still lingered in her mind. Even though they knew much more than before, Yrdenne’s despair was worse.  
“I am glad that you decided to stay away from Tretogor. Mother is, too. You might have made it across the Pontar, but never through Redania. At least, the dwarves would not have made it that far.” Ailidh reached into her bag and handed Yrdenne an apple.  
“I still believe I should have continued our path on my own. I was told it all started in Tretogor. The answer must be there.” And I do not want to go to Novigrad, Yrdenne added in her thoughts and stared at the apple in her hands. She did not feel like eating anything, so she stuffed the apple into her knapsack and started to fold her bedroll. The loss of their mounts would slow them down, and each additional day could cost Mahakam lives. Yrdenne stood up.   
“I will wake the others. We need to set out, soon.”   
“We better wait until dusk. Mother’s servants will ride towards Rinde with your horses. We should give the black-armored time to take the bait. I will guide you through the nights and I will leave you not until we reach the Castle of the La Valettes. You will find shelter there and may plan your further line of actions.”   
Yrdenne frowned at the thought of traveling by night, but she agreed. 

After Moira and the dwarves woke up, the group started to reorganize their baggage, sort out unnecessary items, and to sharpen their blades – just in case. When they sat out at dawn, an uneasy feeling spread in Yrdenne’s guts. Every step western was a step closer to Oxenfurt – and Novigrad.   
And like in those days in Novigrad, the darkness became Yrdenne’s companion again.   
But the soft darkness of the nightly forests and grasslands of Northern Temeria was so different than the choking blackness of Novigrad’s catacombs. Animals rustled through the underwood and the calls of the night birds echoed through the trees. The increasing moon broke through the leaves and lit their path. At least, if the cover of clouds broke. And on the fields, the stars would guide their way like thousands of glimmering diamonds. It was a light darkness with fresh air and space to breathe.   
Even though they all carried their weapons at hand, their journey was almost peaceful. Yrdenne had long conversations with Moira about her life in Mahakam compared to the life at the Temerian court – and about Dalayer and the inescapable decision Yrdenne would have to make after her return.  
The jaunty character of their journal found an abrupt ending in the third night. The group was walking close to the forest edge, because the moonlight was slightly brighter there. They expected to reach Castle La Valette the next day and they listened to Ennis’ remarks about different cuisines of the dwarven tribes.

“What´s that?” Mo asked out of a sudden. She stopped and stared at something outside the forest, on a nearby field. Irma was the first to turn her head, and one by one they all gathered next to Mo and followed her gaze.   
Mo did not need an answer to that question, she had wanted them to see it themselves, to process the image and to realize what it meant. In the centre of the field stood a group of three or four small houses, and they all were burning bright. The fire was so hot that the air was blurry and, even though there weren´t very close, they felt the heat of the blazing flames on their skin.   
“Do you… do you think… there is someone inside?” Irma asked, eyes torn wide open.   
“If so, they are probably dead.” Moira’s voice was as cold as ice. Yrdenne shivered, despite the heat. In that moment, one of the burning houses collapsed and burst a storm of whirling sparks and ember into the night sky.  
The smell of the smoke wafted over the field and soaked into their clothes. Yrdenne tried to hold her breath, the stench, the heat and the flickering flames, this was all too familiar.   
A raging beast awoke in her chest, tearing at its chains and roaring as loud as the firestorm that devoured the houses on the field. Before anyone could hold her back, Yrdenne dropped her bags and her bow and started running.

Driven by the pure despair of her twelve-year-old self, she ignored the yelling of her companions and sprinted towards the buildings. Half way across the field, she thought she heard screams of the people trapped inside the houses and she pushed her muscles to run even faster. Whoever they were, they were crying for their lives.  
The wind blew smoke and sparks towards Yrdenne. She hissed a curse and changed her direction. Approaching the blaze from the side, she almost ran into a horseman who stood close to a small patch of bushes and watched the fire. In the darkness of the night, he was almost invisible against the leaves and branches.   
The horse was pitch black, like the his armor, and even the open face helmet of the rider. As if that wasn´t enough, he carried an imposing longsword on his side.   
Yrdenne stumbled, stopped, and covered her mouth with trembling hands. This was impossible. Unable to move, unable to scream, she stared at the horseman with eyes torn wide open. The bright dancing flames painted abstract patterns into the night, but his own darkness seemed to absorb any light. A demon of shadow and steel. A nightmare come true.

Eventually, the horseman noticed her and, slowly, turned his head. When she saw his pale face with the high cheekbones and dark eyes, Yrdenne’s whole body started to shake in terror. Even though she did not recognize his features, she knew she had seen his kind before.   
This was no man, this was an elf.   
And he wore the black elvish armor of the Vrihedd brigade, just instead of the three silver lightning bolts, three white daisies adorned his chest. The fear of the black elf soldier and the fire rushed through her veins and the world around her faded into a blurr.  
The elf watched her without any visible emotion on his terribly beautiful face. Calmly, he scanned her body, her hunter’s clothes, the sword she carried. Despite her weapon, he made no attempt to attack her.  
“Yrdenne!!! What are you doing? By the gods, RUN!” Ennis yelled in the distance. She didn´t dare to turn her head away from the warrior, but in the corner of her eye Yrdenne saw that her friends came running from the forest. Ennis and Mo up front with axe and swords in their hands. The elf raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips, but still did not draw his sword. Almost bored, he turned his gaze to Ennis and the others, then back to Yrdenne.  
Realizing that she was not alone, ripped her out of her paralysis, and finally she managed to turn and run, prepared to feel a sword stroking her back every moment.   
With every step she got away from the elf, Yrdenne’s legs felt lighter. The adrenaline rushed through her veins and pushed her further. Moira caught up with Ennis and Mo, passed them and was the first to reach Yrdenne. The two women crashed into each other and as soon as Moira’s arms embraced her, Yrdenne burst into tears.   
Ennis, Mo and Irma stormed towards the horseman and the fire.

“He is gone,” said an etheral voice. Ailidh reached them only moments later. With wide eyes she scanned their surroundings and the burning settlement. In a storm of sparks and ashes, the second house collapsed. “Everyone is gone now. There´s no one left.”  
Moira loosened her embrace and met Yrdenne’s gaze.  
“Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”, she asked and put her hand on Yrdenne’s shoulder.   
With trembling hands, Yrdenne wiped the tears off her face. How pathetic. She had fought with the rebels of Novigrad and ended Varnhelm in a burning library, and now she lost her nerves at first sight of an elven warrior.  
“I am fine,” Yrdenne´s voice was hoarse. For an instant she closed her eyes and tried to recall the face of the warrior. But his image in her mind was hazed and blurry. Mechanically, Her right hand clawed at her left wrist, she tried to focus on her breathing and slowly, calmed down. He was gone. She was safe now.  
“Was he a Nilfgaardian?” Moira frowned and tried to read Yrdenne’s face. Yrdenne shook her head and swallowed hard.   
“He was from Dol Blathanna.”

Eventually, the dwarves returned with hanging shoulders.   
“Aye, we couldn´t get through,” Ennis said toneless and stared to the ground.  
“We were probably too late anyway.” Comforting, Moira stroke his arm. “We should leave this dreadful place.”  
Irma nodded and gently punched her cousins shoulder.  
“Let´s go. We need to find shelter. Who knows if these bastards are still around? That warrior might return with his fellows.”   
“I doubt that. He could have killed me, but he didn´t. We are no threat to him, or his plans.” Yrdenne said silently while she stared into the flames. This time, it was not even her home that burnt, and it still hurt.  
“How can you be so sure about that?” Mo asked and raised her eyebrows. The she-dwarf was panting, her hands on her hips.  
“He was an elf, from Dol Blathanna. I saw the daisies on his armor.”  
“That makes no sense! A Mahakam shield hung next to one of the doors. This little settlement was inhabited by non-humans. Why would the elves attack them, here in Temeria?”, asked Irma, she wrapped her arms around herself and knit her brows.   
Mo met her spouse’s gaze. “Why would the elves harm dwarves? I think to figure that out is the very reason we are here.”  
“Maybe he was just watching,” Ailidh said with a low voice.   
“Then he is as cruel as those who set the fire!” blurted Mo. “Talking about watching… weren´t you supposed to stay with our belongings?”  
“Someone came right after you left. We briefly spoke, and he said he would take care of the baggage if I wanted to go after you.” With wide eyes Ailidh looked from one to another, her fingers playing with her braid.   
“You did WHAT?” Ennis barked and after a moment of shock, he started hurrying to the edge of the forest. The others followed him right away, leaving the baffled half-elf woman on the field.

In the shine of the still burning fire, Yrdenne spotted two tall figures in long cloaks standing between the trees, right where she had dropped her gear. Her heartrate increased and she sent a prayer to Melitele for the night to be over soon. With every step, her legs felt weaker and she had difficulties keeping up with her fellows. But she would never forgive herself if he lost her healer’s bag and her bow.  
Getting closer she realized that she still couldn’t see the strangers faces because their hoods covered their faces. She overheard Ennis cursing, because one of them carried a huge bow on his back – and at least from the distance the bow looked very elvish.  
When they were only a stone throw away, one of the strangers made a step out of the forest and removed his hood. He was, indeed, an elf.  
Yrdenne squeaked when she recognized him, her heart skipped a beat when his lips curled into a soft smile.  
It was Cjardeth and he raised a hand to greet them.

“Cjardeth! By the gods!”, Yrdenne called before she reached him. Her companions slowed down and watched how Yrdenne threw herself into the elf’s arms.  
“She knows him?”, Mo asked Irma with a low voice and raised her eyebrows.  
“They are old friends, he is a healer from Novigrad,” Irma whispered back.  
“But what is he doing here then?” Mo frowned. Irma shrugged and shook her head.  
Cjardeth welcomed Yrdenne with a tight embrace  
“Yrdenne, my dear. Of all people, I meet you in these deserted lands. I am relieved to find you well.”  
“Cjardeth… The fate must have crossed our paths. What leads you here? Why did you leave Novigrad?” Yrdenne could not fight the broad smile that spread on her face. Cjardeth, the elven healer that stood by her side in the dark days in Novigrad, had found her in this dark hour.   
But her smile froze when she noticed the furrow on his brow and his stern face.  
“There will be the time to discuss this. But for now, we should get somewhere safe,” Cjardeth said and looked at Yrdenne’s companions. “As soon your half-elf companion caught up, we will bring you into our camp in the woods. You should pick up your baggage.” Calmly, he folded his hands in front of his stomach, but not without sending the dwarves a reprehensive glare for leaving Ailidh behind.   
When Ailidh reached them, Cjardeth nodded at his mysterious escort, who still did not reveal their face. Wordless, the archer turned around and went deeper into the forest, and Yrdenne and her companions followed them.   
They walked about half an hour, and Yrdenne completely lost her sense for time and localization. She neither heard nor saw the camp until she stood almost next to the fire. Confused, she looked around and was surprised to find so many familiar faces.  
The bonfire was in the middle of a clearing. Yrdenne spotted five tents next to each other and a few bedrolls by the fireside. She estimated that about a dozen people were in the camp, all of them non-humans. And to her surprise, many familiar faces.   
Cjardeth introduced the newcomers to his people and told Yrdenne’s friends to make themselves comfortable.   
“Eat, drink, or find yourself a place to sleep. This camp is protected by our mage, and no one who isn´t invited is able to find it,” he explained with a firm voice. “Yrdenne, why don´t you sit with me and we talk a bit.” With a soft smile he gestured towards a sleeping berth aside from the others. Yrdenne nodded and followed him to his bedroll.  
With a sigh, Cjardeth sat down cross-legged.  
“It´s a blessing that we met you here,” he begun, while Yrdenne put down her bags and her bedroll next to him and plumped herself down. “I am sure you heard about the illness and the raising hostility against non-humans. At first we thought the Nilfgaardian officials could handle it, since the law clearly protects the non-humans – but they couldn´t. That´s why we decided to leave Novigrad and go to Temeria.”  
Yrdenne found it hard to believe that her friend left Novigrad so easily. He had stayed through all the dark times during the war, risked his life and consolidated with the rebels to protect and to free his people and to make Novigrad safe again – and now he left everything behind? But she also noticed the wrinkles around his greenish eyes, and how dull his grey hair looked. Cjardeth looked exhausted.   
“We set this camp up a few days ago, because some of the elders need rest. We… we lost someone on the way and decided to recover before we continue our journey.”  
“I am very sorry to hear that,” said Yrdenne with a lump in her throat. She had an inkling that this would not be the happy reunion she expected. “We were on the way to Tretogor, but had to change our plans due to… unforeseen circumstances. Our next destination is La Valette, and from there we want to go to Oxenfurt and Novigrad. These lands are indeed dangerous for non-humans, so we travel at night. The fire…” – “…is only the first of many more you will see, if you continue your path. Believe me, you shouldn’t.” Cjardeth met her gaze. “Go home.”  
“Cjardeth… I can´t. The illness spread in Mahakam. If we don´t find a cure, or any other way to stop it, there will be no safe place for the dwarves to go to. I joined Moira and Ennis to fight this disease, and we have to go where it started.” Yrdenne turned her head away and watched the non-humans that gathered at the fire: dwarves, gnomes, halflings and elves. They sat together as allies in hard times, not knowing about the growing bad blood between Mahakam and Dol Blathanna.   
“In Mahakam?” Cjardeth eyes widened. “How did it get there?”  
Yrdenne inhaled. She knew, she could trust Cjardeth. But she did not know if he had ties to Dol Blathanna. After all, he was an elf. She remembered that Malik had told her to talk to Cjardeth, so eventually she decided to tell him what she knew.   
“They don´t know for sure. But it all started after a delegation from Dol Blathanna got in an argument with Brouver Hoog. Many of the dwarves believe the elves brought the illness to Mahakam. I heard it was similar in Tretogor…”  
Cjardeth scanned her face.  
“What do you believe?”  
“I don´t understand why the elves should do that. But… I saw a warrior watching the burning houses, and he wore the daisies of Dol Blathanna,” Yrdenne said. Briefly, she told Cjardeth what happened.  
His expression darkened with every word.  
“I know about the black-armored warriors that attack non-humans, and I can assure you they are no elves. Maybe the warrior you saw was a messenger or a scout and discovered the fire by chance, like you.”  
“What makes you so sure?” Yrdenne frowned.  
“Because these black-armored men found our last camp, and five of us died to give the others a chance to escape. They were very human.” Cjardeth closed his eyes for an instant, as if to shake off images that haunted him. “Three of them were former Scoia´tael who settled down in Novigrad. They accompanied the group as guards and wanted to go back as soon as we were in a safe space. I heard rumours, that new Scoia´tael units are forming, ready to shed blood. I can´t make sense of all the things that happen in the Northern Realms, but I see that if the illness spread further, a civil war will rise and the Realms will burn to ashes.”


	8. Stories from the Past

The Scoia´tael were reuniting. Yrdenne´s heart rate increased and she glanced at the elves in the camp. Where there more former Scoia´tael among them? Someone who knew more about Iorveth? Or, Wolf and Eardreth, at least?  
“You are not only on the road to find a cure for the illness, aren´t you?” Cjardeth mused with a gentle voice and laid his hand on her knee. “You didn´t see him again?”  
Yrdenne cringed. Were her feelings that obvious?  
“I… um… No, rumours is all I got. And… those did not give me much hope to… ever see them again.” Her voice cracked and she inhaled deeply.  
Cjardeth nodded.  
“I still remember the letter you sent Gavenia and me, telling us you moved to Vizima, in case one of them came to find you. A few months later, a hand full elves of Iorveth’s unit returned to Novigrad, but only because the command was falling apart after he left. Unfortunately, that’s all I know.”  
Yrdenne swallowed to get rid of the lump in her throat. I didn´t work. She clenched her fists and turned her head away from Cjardeth, so he wouldn´t see her tearing up.  
“I heard the same. And then, someone told me he… did not survive.”  
When her right hand reached for her left wrist, so the pain of her fingernails clawing into skin would distract her from the pain in her heart, Cjardeth interfered. He took her right hand in his, and his skin was warm and comforting.   
“Yrdenne, you are allowed to hurt.”  
She met his gaze and a brief smile flitted across her face. No one had told her something like that before. In this moment, Cjardeth was like the father she had missed half of her life. For the first time since she had left Vizima, since she had left Dalayer, she did not feel alone. Talking to her old friend felt like… home.   
“Thank you, Cjardeth. I am such a mess…” Then, Yrdenne brushed her sensitivity away, trying to focus on more important topics. “Anyway, I shouldn´t wreck my head about things I can´t change. The illness is the issue these days.”   
Cjardeth held her gaze, but did not reply. A wave of laughter gushed from a group of non-humans by the fire. When Yrdenne looked what it was about, she saw Ennis making funny faces for the few children in this fellowship while Moira watched him with a love-struck smile.  
“The illness, and everything that comes with it,” Cjardeth continued their conversation. “I did not hear them laughing since we left Novigrad.” The bitterness in his voice made Yrdenne shiver.   
“How bad was it there? Were you able to treat the patients? All I have are documents I got from Ennis’ brother,” she asked.  
“The merchants were the first to get sick. And since the ghetto doesn´t exist anymore and many of us live next door to humans, it’s hard to tell who brought it to Novigrad. But I felt the non-humans recovered more often, even though I treated everyone the same. Willow bark extract against fever and pain, ointment to treat the itchy skin, herbal infusions when they were coughing…” Cjardeth paused and slightly shock his head. “It was as if the patients who trusted me and felt they were in good hands and well taken care of recovered. But those that were suspicious, were alone or even abandoned by their family suffered worse, and, eventually, died. If I didn´t knew it better, I would say the fear to die brought death, and the belief to recover was the cure.”  
Yrdenne frowned. “But you were in touch with them? Why didn´t you get sick?”  
The elf shrugged. “I am old, my dear. My body has seen many disease, my blood defeated all of them. I don´t think there is any germ in these lands that can harm me. And I wash my hands frequently. Even though…” – Cjardeth glanced at the others to make sure no one was within hearing rage – “…there is one symptom I have never seen before. Even before the people felt they were sick, I could sense the illness. They were beset with a dark aura, like a cloud, or sticky fog… Only magic sensitive persons can sense it. And the thicker it got, the weaker became the patients, and the more itched their skin.”   
“I have never heard of something like that. What happened to those who survived?”  
“When the aura vanished, they are fine. Well, except those who fell in the hands of the humans.” Cjardeth clenched his jaw and stared at the ground. He did not need to speak out loud what happened to them. Yrdenne kept quiet. 

“Hej, are you done with your conspiracy, Cjar? We have a little midnight snack!” a female elf called them. It was Cardeth’s companion from earlier, she still wore the long cloak, but had taken off the hood. Curiously Yrdenne watched the woman. Something was familiar about her face with the silver eyes, framed by short brownish hair.  
“Thank you, Mirhanwen. We are done for tonight. A midnight snack sounds fantastic!” Cjardeth replied with a smile and waved.   
Mirhanwen! Yrdenne’s eyes widened. She knew this elf! Mirhanwen had fought with them in Novigrad, she was a member of Iorveth’s command and even more, she belonged to the small group that visited Eardreth and his partner in the sick bay almost every day. She was a friend of Eardreth, and maybe of Iorveth.  
Her heart was in her mouth when Yrdenne stood up and followed Cjardeth to the fire.   
“We raided the provisions of the newcomers, they had a whole bag of nuts!” With a wide grin, Mirhanwen presented them a still sizzling pan with honey-coated roasted nuts. When Yrdenne looked at her fellows with raised eyebrows, Irma met her gaze with a radiant and impish smile.   
“Before the sentinel of Lady Bjorenn brought us to the house in the backyard, we took a tour through the manor and found the storage.”  
Ailidh, who sat at the fire next to a dark haired male elf, laughed out loud. “You stole our nuts, but not the wine?”  
Mo cleared her throat and pulled a bottle from her backpack. “We took the brandy. More alcohol per volume.”  
“Oh,” Ailidh’s eyes widened, then she smirked. “Well, I brought wine, just in case.”  
After a brief moment of astonishment, Cjardeth burst into laughter. It turned out, that also some of the refugees from Novigrad had snuck some booze or treats in their baggage. Yrdenne decided there would be enough time to ask Mirhanwen about Iorveth and Eardreth the next day. It was time for brandy, roasted nuts and carelessness.

The next morning, Yrdenne was one of the first to wake up. She found herself curled together in her bedroll under a tree at the edge of the clearing. A slight headache flashed through her skull when she sat up and looked around. It was after sunrise, but the sky was cloudy and grey, and wafts of mist waved between the trees. Everywhere lay sleeping and snoring bundles of people and the fire had burnt down to a pile of ember. A group of gnomes were on watch and patrolled through the camp.  
A stone throw away, Mirhanwen sat underneath a tree and waxed the string of her bow with a candle stump. Yrdenne inhaled and stood up. It was now or never.  
Casually, she walked over to the woman and ran her eyes over the engraved patterns on the bow. She spotted a zig-zag line that might mimic a mountain range, and dots and lines that resembled star constellations. What an unusual decoration for a Scoia´tael.  
“Good morning Mirhanwen, are you planning to hunt?” Yrdenne said and smiled at Mirhanwen.  
The elf looked up with a raised eyebrow.  
“Good morning… Yrdenne, right?” Mirhanwen replied. “I remember you. You are Aenye Bradlofrudd.”  
This name again, Yrdenne shivered. Olwen had called her Aenye Bradlofrudd, she almost forgot about that.  
“It seems like some people call me that name.”  
Mirhanwen put her bow aside and tiled her head. “Every Scoia´tael who was in Novigrad calls you that. Any many who heard about it.”  
“I… I don´t think what I did was that special,” Yrdenne blushed and looked away to intensively study the bark of a nearby tree. “Everyone who was there would have done the same.”  
Mirhanwen shrugged. “Anyways, I don´t plan to go hunting. I prepare my gear every morning. Old habits…” When she noticed the disappointment on Yrdenne’s face, she quickly added: “But I want to go to a little stream nearby, you know, to get water, wash myself and maybe catch a fish… you want to join me?”  
Relieved, Yrdenne nodded. “Oh yes, I could really need a bath.”  
“But bring your sword, you never know who else is in the forest.” With a nasty grin, Mirhanwen waved with her sheathed assassin’s daggers.  
Yrdenne quickly went to grab her sword and her water skin and some moments later she and Mirhanwen were off into the woods. 

For a while, they two woman walked side by side in silence. Yrdenne did not know how to start the conversation. She was afraid to say something wrong, because she did not know what Mirhanwen went through and why she was separated from her Scoia´tael fellows.   
Yrdenne could already hear the gushing stream when, finally, Mirhanwen decided to speak.  
“May I ask you something?” Her voice was low and she did not turn her head.  
“Sure.” Surprised Yrdenne glanced at the elf and noticed how she bit her lip and her fingers picked at the seam of her cloak.   
“You and Iorveth… were very close, right?”  
Yrdenne cringed at the question and almost stumbled over a stone on their path. She hesitated to answer.  
“I am just asking because… have you heard anything from him? Or from Eardreth?”  
The question was so unexpected that Yrdenne froze right where she stood. Mirhanwen continued.  
“I am just asking because… some month after Iorveth disappeared, Eardreth, a few others, and I decided to search for him. Eardreth disbanded the command and we set out to Kaedwen. He did not even tell Eardreth where he went, you know. Iorveth just mentioned a castle in Kaedwen and an old friend.” Mirhanwen inhaled as if she tried hard not to sob. “We got in a fight and I was injured, so I chose to stay behind. My brother Maelon and I went back to Oxenfurt, because Eardreth said if Iorveth returned, he might go there to find you. I never saw any of them again.”  
“I… am so sorry to hear that,” Yrdenne’s throat felt sore. So, Eardreth was missing, too. “But I can´t help you. Finding Iorveth is one reason why I left Vizima… I want to find him or… whatever is left of him.”   
Mirhanwen nodded, she understood.  
“I see. So we are in the same boat,” she sighed, “They were all of a family I had, you know. Seregthiel was like a sister to me. She and Eardreth’s partner, Idris, saved Maelon’s and my life when the humans ambushed Dol Blathanna. And Iorveth welcomed us when we had nowhere to go.”  
Yrdenne could not even imagine how it was to spend such a long life together – and then everyone disappeared. The thought that Iorveth was so loved by his friends warmed her heart, but it also hurt, because she had not known about them.   
“Can you… can you tell me about him?”, Yrdenne asked. “How he was like, before the war?”  
Even though she had tears in her eyes, Mirhanwen chuckled at the question.   
“He was angry,” she replied, “Angry at dh’oine. He was the last of a, well, you would call it royal line of Aen Seidhe. They all were killed by your kind when he was adolescent.”   
Yrdenne could not ignore the sharp tone in Mirhanwen’s voice. Your kind. But she stayed silent.  
“I think that´s why he was so susceptible for Faoiltiarna’s idealism. Fao was like a big brother to him, he took care of Iorveth after he lost his family. They were obsessed with their training; sword fighting, archery, horseback riding, you name it. We knew sooner or later they would go to war against the dh’oine. But Iorveth was so compassionate and had such a big heart. He loved being in the woods, watching the birds and rabbits... In winter, he would feed hedgehogs and deer and whatnot. He liked to be on his own and I think Eardreth is the only one he opened up to. When he fell in love with Seregthiel, we all thought he’d finally grow up and his rage would calm down. It didn´t.”  
Engrossed, Mirhanwen watched a robin sitting on a twig. Yrdenne was glad that the elf did not look at her, did not see how miserable she felt. Iorveth used to have a normal live with friends and strolls in the forest. He had loved Seregthiel. And all this was taken away from him because of the cruelties of her kind.  
“I think he left Seregthiel because she never understood why he was so angry, why he wanted to fight so badly. She wanted him to settle down and start a family – but he couldn’t. Maybe he was too scared to lose this family, too. Eventually, Iorveth and Eardreth followed Fao’s call to join the Scoia´tael, and left us behind.”  
The memories seemed to exhaust Mirhanwen. She started walking towards a fallen tree and slumped down so she could lean against the stem. Relieved Yrdenne followed her. Her heart beat so fast and her legs felt so weak that she was afraid they would give in. Hearing the story of Iorveth’s past was choking.   
“The war changed him. When I met him again, he was the cruel one-eyed commander you saved in Novigrad. He would die for every single elf in his command, and he would not bat an eye when he killed a dh’oine. That´s what war does, to all of us. But I guess I don´t really know what else happened him, because then there is you.” Finally, Mirhanwen turned her head and looked at Yrdenne. “What role do you play in his life? How the hell did you get close to a human-murdering rebel leader?”  
The sky was still cloudy, but a fresh breeze dispersed the fog. The forest animals seemed to enjoy the clear view, squirrels rustled through the trees and the air was filled with chirping and humming noises of birds and bees.   
“He saved my life when I was a child,” Yrdenne replied. “I don´t know why, but he decided I should live.”  
Mirhanwen raised her eyebrows. “A life debt? Iorveth? How unusual. For how long did you stay with him?”  
“I…I never stayed with him. He brought me back to my parents. But… what is a life debt?” Yrdenne frowned at the strange term.  
“He did not claim you???”, baffled the elf stared at Yrdenne with wide eyes. When she noticed how confused Yrdenne looked at her, she explained: “If an elf saves a life, they become responsible for the being they saved. Technically, you belonged him. According to our laws, he could have taken you away from your family. From that day, he was responsible for you.”  
Yrdenne’s heart skipped a beat. She did not know this. Iorveth never told her about the life debt thing.   
“He… he visited me from time to time. He built me a bow and taught me how to use it. We went hunting and such. Iorveth was… he was like a brother to me. He called me sor’ca.”  
“Did anyone KNOW about this?” Mirhanwen stared at Yrdenne open mouthed.  
“My parents of course. And I assume Eardreth knew it, because in Oxenfurt, he had an eye on me, too. But what does it mean, he was responsible for me?” Yrdenne felt sick. What else did he not tell her?  
“He was obligated to care for you and to protect you, at all costs,” Mirhanwen explained.  
“And he failed,” Yrdenne realized. “A few months before the Battle of Brenna, a unit of Scoia´tael attacked my home. They murdered my whole family and burnt our property to ashes. Iorveth wanted to stop them, but he arrived too late. Until we met again in Oxenfurt, he believed me dead.” Yrdenne’s fingers dug into her skin and she tried to focus on her breathing. The memories were overwhelming, but not because of her loss. Finally, she understood how painful that day must have been for him. Iorveth did not only believe he had lost her, but he believed he failed her. All those years he believed he failed his obligation to protect her life. This truth hit Yrdenne hard, she shivered and felt like all warmth was drained from her body.   
The silence of the forest was almost impossible to bear.  
Suddenly, Mirhanwen reached for a dagger and put her index on her lips. The silence… The forest was completely silent. No wind, no birds or bees. The elf switched from the woman that missed her family to fully grown warrior in seconds. Soundlessly, Mirhanwen stood up and snuck to a big tree. She pressed her body against the bark and signed Yrdenne to follow her.  
In the moment Yrdenne reached her, she heard the steps. Horses. Presumably, men on horses.

“Aye, Heribert, we’re combing through this bloody forest for five days! The filthy non-humans moved on, we should return to the castle!”, a rough male voice snarled.  
“The rune stones of the mage said they are still here. If we let them escape, the Grandmaster will behead us!”, his companion replied.   
“If you two idiots bark like a bitch in heat, the whole forest knows we are coming for them!” growled a third one.   
Mirhanwen’s eyes narrowed to slits. She signed Yrdenne to stay where she was and snuck to the next tree, towards the voices. Yrdenne pressed her back against the tree and slid down. Whoever these men were, they weren´t on a field trip, and the sounds of stomping horses came closer. The pure fear for her life kept Yrdenne from throwing up.   
“I bet my ass these dwarves hid them under the timber piling or in the attic!” snorted the first one.  
“Well, then they are dead, because we burnt the whole neighbourhood down,” said the third, “And not shut up!”

To Yrdenne, it felt like hours had passed when Mirhanwen finally returned. The elf was out of breath, she had mud on her face and leaves in her hair.  
“It´s them! These men attacked us. Did you hear what they said? They set the fire, too!” she hissed. “They are four. Three in black armour – and a mage with a black cloak. He wasn´t with them when they ambushed us, but I could clearly see embroidery on his cloak. It looked like a purple lantern or something like that.”  
Yrdenne met her gaze. Her hands were trembling and she felt sick. Once more, she regretted that she left Vizima.  
“Aenye Bradlofrudd, you look miserable. Pull yourself together,” Mirhanwen’s voice became soft and she took Yrdenne’s hand. “I know, it´s not easy. It never is. But we have to get back and warn the others. We have to function now, and when everyone is safe, we have time for a breakdown.”  
The former Scoia´tael took the lead and guided Yrdenne back to the camp. 

When they told Cjardeth what happened, the news struck like a thunderbolt. The non-humans gathered next to the fire and tried to make an escape plan. Yrdenne learned that the spell that protected the camp from unsolicited visitors was already fading and the mage who had cast it – Ailidh’s dark haired new friend – was unable to renew it.   
“I entirely drained the energy sources of this clearing to create the shield. We need to move to a place with a strong source for my magic, there I can try again. But as soon as we leave this place, we are exposed – to both their eyes and their rune stones,” he explained with hanging shoulders.  
“I think we should stay. Maybe these man give up and leave before the shield fades entirely!”, suggested a female gnome.   
Ennis and Irma exchanged worried glances, and Yrdenne realized that their plan to reach Castle La Valette was cancelled. They could not leave the refugees from Novigrad on their own, not with the black armored hard on their heels.   
Everyone looked at Cjardeth. The old elf sat on the ground with crossed legs and stared into the remains of their fire. No one dared to speak to him. After some moments, Mirhanwen had enough.  
“Cjardeth! We need a decision. You are our elder. Can we risk to leave the clearing, or shall we wait?”  
Slowly, the grey haired elf raised his head and met her gaze.  
“We can risk to leave, if we manage to wipe away our traces and distract them. I may have some magic left in my old bones to lure them away from you.”


	9. Made from Fire

With wide eyes, Yrdenne stared at Cjardeth. Her old friend was not only magic sensitive, but a mage?  
“What do you mean, magic left in your bones?” blurted Mirhanwen. Obviously, she was as surprised as Yrdenne. Everyone else fell silent.  
Cjardeth sighed. “I decided to lay down my mage entity many years ago, far before the Northern Realms decided to… turn against magic. But extraordinary situations require extraordinary methods, don´t they?”  
“You are what???” the dark-haired elven mage, his name was Halwyn, jumped up. “You watched me struggle with protecting us, even though together we could have probably created a much stronger shield?”  
Some people in the back started murmuring again.  
Cjardeth raised his hand, and they fell silent.  
“It´s not that simple, Halwyn. My magic abilities are locked deep inside my soul, and I had my reasons to do so. I cannot simply use them as I wish. And they are driven by the powers of the Aen Saevherne, they do not match yours,” he explained with a low voice. While he spoke, the lines in his skin appeared to be deeper and the shadows under his eyes were darker. He looked old, much older than Yrdenne had noticed before. “It is possible that my magic wasted over the decades, and I might only be able to use it one more time.”  
Halwyn, the mage, opened his mouth to answer back, but, to Yrdenne’s surprise, it was Ennis who stood up for Cjardeth.   
“Cjardeth took a great risk during the rebellion on Novigrad. He worked to exhaustion and I am sure he wished to have access to his powers more than once in those days. You chose him as your leader and guide, so you should trust him. If he offers to unleash his magic so you can escape, it´s nothing we should take for granted,” Ennis paused to look from one to another, before he continued. “These black-armored men are actively searching for you. For us! When they find us – sooner or later they will, if we just stay here – we will fight. And some might survive. But for sure, not all of us. Cjardeth is giving us a chance.”  
While Ennis spoke, Yrdenne watched Cjardeth. A gentle smile flitted across his face, but to her, his eyes looked oddly sad.   
“Thank you, Ennis,” said Cjardeth and slightly bowed his head.   
“I agree with Ennis,” added Mirhanwen, “We are not many, and only half of us can wield a weapon. If Cjardeth can give us a head start, I vote for accepting it.” When she saw that the majority of the group nodded, Mirhanwen turned to Cjardeth. “What do you need, and when can you start?”  
“I need some help with a potion, and then, time to meditate to free whatever is left of my magic. At nightfall, I will be ready. You all should start packing,” Cjardeth turned his head to Yrdenne, “Can you give me a hand with the herbs?”

So while most of the group started disassembling the tents and rolling up the bedrolls, Cjardeth sent Yrdenne into the forest, to find very certain plants for his potions. To her, it was a welcome escape from the dismal mood in the camp. While she recited the detailed descriptions Cjardeth had given her in her mind, she strolled between the trees and enjoyed the lush greens around her. And relieved she watched the playing squirrels and listened to the songs of the birds. Cjardeth had ensured her that the rune stones of the black mage would not be able to track her – she was human, after all. Even though the situation was critical, she took her time to collect all the herbs Cjardeth needed. Only the gods knew when she would have time for a stroll in the future, or how the future would look like, at all.  
Back in the camp, Yrdenne felt like a veil of fear covered everything. The non-humans sat together in small groups, no one was speaking. She passed them quickly to get to Cjardeth and bring him the herbs. Helping him with the preparation of his meditation potion was a distraction from what lay ahead.   
The elf already stirred in a greenish liquid that simmered in a little pot over a small fire. He added strange looking ingredients from his bag – he must have carried them along to be prepared in case of an emergency.   
“Did you get everything? Aaah, I see… Thank you,” Cjardeth murmured when Yrdenne gave him the plants. He did not take his eyes off his brew. “I will show you how to cut them.”  
Curiously, Yrdenne watched how he plucked some leaves off a plant and used a tool made of two flat stones, almost like travel-sized mortar and pestle, to grind them into a paste. It was like in the days of the rebellion in Novigrad, when they prepared the ointments and medication for the sickbay together. Whenever Cjardeth added something to the pot, he mumbled words in a strange language.   
The potion was almost scentless and had a weird light absorbing black colour when it was ready, but Cjardeth drank the entire pot without hesitation.  
Yrdenne watched how he leant back against the tree and closed his eyes. Now, all she could do was waiting with the others.

It was after nightfall, when Cjardeth woke from his trance. Mirhanwen was the first to notice, she jumped up and hurried to him. When she offered him a hand to help him up, he declined. In an effortless, almost feline movement, Cjardeth stood up and walked to the large fire, where the group sat together.  
He looked the same, but something about him had changed. There was a glow in his eyes, and he stood upright with a squared back.  
“It is time,” was all he said. Halwyn frowned, but Ennis nodded and got up. One after another, the non-humans and Moira did the same.   
“I will cast an illusion to lead the black armored away from here. Far enough, so you can run. Once I left the camp, you have to wait for two hours, and then flee. Run as fast as you can, towards Vizima,” Cjardeth ordered. His voice war clear and so harsh that a shiver ran down Yrdenne’s spine. The children watched the old elf with wide eyes, he scared them.  
“What do you mean, you will leave? We need you to guide us!” blurted Mirhanwen. Cjardeth only raised his hand to shut her up.  
“You will take the lead, together with Ennis. I will leave you and you will not wait for me. If you insist, I will allow one person to accompany me,” with that, he turned to Yrdenne and met her gaze, “And I already chose someone.”  
“No!”, Moira stepped forward. Since they arrived in the camp, she stayed quiet and let Yrdenne have her way with the elves, but now she glared at Cjardeth as if he wanted to steal something from her. “Yrdenne came with us, and she will stay with us.”  
“You brought her to find a cure for the illness in Redania. There is no such thing in that realm,” Cjardeth replied calmly, he folded his hands in front of his stomach.  
“Oh, but you know the place where it´s hidden?” Moira’s voice was a snarl.  
Cjardeth shook his head.  
“No, but I might know someone who is able to find it. And certainly, I know that they will not welcome such an illustrious entourage on their lands. It will be difficult enough to convince them to hear Yrdenne.”  
When Moira opened her mouth to reply, Ennis laid a hand on her arm. Moira glared at him, but stayed silent and clenched her jaws.   
“When Yrdenne wants to go, we will not hold her back. If you get in trouble, try to get to Caslte La Valette. As soon as we are in Vizima, I will make sure someone is there to help you,” Ennis answered on behalf of his wife and turned to Yrdenne, waiting for her decision.  
To Yrdenne, it felt like everyone’s eyes burnt marks into her skin. Her gaze flitted from Ennis and Moira to Irma and Mo, and finally to Cjardeth. Why didn´t he tell her before that what he planned?   
Moira knitted her brows, probably pondering what reason could keep Yrdenne from leaving. But both Ennis and Irma’s eyes were full of hope. Within a day, Cjardeth had turned from an old friend into a mysterious sage, with secrets beyond their comprehension. If anyone on this clearing had the knowledge to find a cure for the illness, it was him.  
“I will go with Cjardeth,” Yrdenne decided, even though she had no idea where he would take her, “It´s our biggest chance. Maybe the only one we have.”  
She expected Moira to speak up again, but instead, her friend came to her and embraced her.  
“I don´t like this,” she whispered into Yrdenne’s ear.  
“I know, but it feels right to go with him,” Yrdenne whispered back.  
“In Vizima, I will send Dalayer to Castle La Valette to wait for you,” the way Moira said this made it sound like a thread. There was nothing Yrdenne wanted to reply. Instead, she let go of Moira and went to the dwarves to bid farewell.  
In the meantime, Cjardeth plucked a single hair of every non-human from Novigrad. He collected the hair in a parchment envelope and stored the envelope away in a pocket of his garment.  
“Can we go, Yrdenne?”   
“Yes, I am ready,” she replied. Cjardeth’s response was a warm, but sad smile.

In silence, Cjardeth and Yrdenne hurried through the forest. Animals rustles through the under forest and every now and then, the cry of an owl echoed through the trees. They carried only light luggage, to walk as fast and as long they could. Yrdenne had emptied most of her knapsack so the content of her healer’s bag would fit inside. No extra clothes, almost no provisions, she had even returned the notes of Ennis’ brother. The strung bow hung over her shoulder, the arrow-filled quiver and her word in its sheath on her belt. She was as well prepared as possible, nevertheless, her heart was in her mouth. Next to her, Cjardeth carried only a small bag and a torch.  
“Isn´t it dangerous to have open light?” Yrdenne asked after a while.   
“Yes, and no. It´s part of the incantation and I am shielding the light from foreign eyes. But if the black-armoured are very close, they will notice it. And if they do, we will fail,” Cjardeth explained.   
“What exactly are you going to do?” despite the low light, Yrdenne glanced at her friend. Cjardeth grinned like a school boy.  
“We will play with fire.” And that was it.  
Realizing, that she would not get any further information, Yrdenne changed the topic.  
“Cjardeth… all the day I was wondering how the others are doing. Earlier, you mentioned Gavenia, but didn´t say why she isn´t with you. And what about Bastian and Ingfryd?”  
As if it was bound to his mind, the fire of the torch flickered.  
“I was afraid you would ask this.”  
“They got sick,” Yrdenne mused. Her shoulders dropped and suddenly, a heavy weight lay on her chest. She guessed more than she saw that Cjardeth nodded.  
“Gavenia was one of the first who got the illness, since she still worked as a healer. Even though we did everything we could, she lost the fight. But I guess, since she was so old, she was tired of life, and of the hatred.” Cjardeth voice was only a rough whisper. He and Gavenia had known each other for decades, and even though he was an experienced healer – and Aen Saevherne! – he could not save her. “Fortunately, Bastian recovered quickly. He gained a lot of influence after the rebellion and decided to stay. He didn´t want to leave his beloved city for the wolves.”  
The news of Gavenia’s death clenched Yrdenne’s heart, she could barely fight the tears. The old dwarf was her first alley in Novigrad, and had a heart of gold. Despite her own poor health, she had helped in the sickbay of the rebels. This loss would weight heavy on the non-humans of Novigrad. The relief about Bastian’s well-being could not console her. Cjardeth seemed to understand that, he reached for Yrdenne’s hand.  
“She chose to go. Gavenia had a long life and will be missed by many. But she decided that her time in these lands was over.”  
“I see…”, Yrdenne swallowed. “And… Ingfryd?” Again, the flame of the torch flickered.  
“I wish I knew. Ingfryd left with Wolf. Whatever she fought that day, it unsettled her. She and Wolf decided to search for this creature, and I haven´t seen her since,” Cjardeth sighed and squeezed Yrdenne’s hand. “We are almost there. Before I start with the incantation, I have to tell you something.”  
A shiver ran drown Yrdenne´s spine. She just wanted this night to be over. “Go ahead.”  
“I will create projections of our fellows, and these projections will follow me with some distance. For everyone passing by it will look like they all are marching through the woods. And because of the nature of my magic, the rune stones of this mage will trace them even when the actual conjuration has vanished,” Cjardeth explained, “If they are searching for us now, they will find us soon. We might need to run. When this happens, I need you to run away from me, not with me.”  
“But… you said you know someone who can help to find a cure for the illness,” Yrdenne interrupted him. Cjardeth send her a reproachful look.   
“You will not follow me,” he stated. “I will give you a necklace. It´s a gift I got more than a century ago from a dear friend. This necklace will grant you entrance to Brokilon. I cannot promise that they will help you, but at least they will hear you. Ask for Aglaïs and tell her everything. And tell her about your past.” The sharp tone in the elf’s voice made clear that this was an order, and that he would not accept disobedience.   
“What has my past to do with the illness?” Again, the look Cjardeth gave her made Yrdenne regret that she opened her mouth. The magic changed him.  
“Because before you can cure others, you need to heal yourself. You are broken, Yrdenne, and that is very relatable. Everyone would be. So, first, you need to mend what was torn apart in Novigrad. Leave the past behind,” with every word, Cjardeth’s voice became softer. He stopped and, gently, forced Yrdenne to halt and look into his eyes. “You deserve to heal. For that, you need to go to Brokilon. But let´s hope I can take you there myself.”  
Yrdenne was unable to reply, so she nodded. The tremulous beast in her chest started to tear at its chains, for an instant Yrdenne wanted to run away from Cjardeth and get home. But she fought the impulse down, and the moment passed.  
Cjardeth went on, and she followed him to a clearing surrounded by birch trees.

Wordless, she watched how he gathered branches and twigs and piled them up on the mossy ground, consistently mumbling words in a peculiar language. When the pile was about hip-high, the elf tossed the torch on top of it and watched how the flames started to devour the wood.  
Satisfied, Cjardeth pulled something out of his bag and walked to Yrdenne. With a smile, he showed her a pendant on a leather string. The pendant was a greenish gem with q unique pattern of golden and brown freckles framed by spirals made of brazen wire.   
“In the centre of the forest are the headwaters of a river, and the riverbed consists of a rare green jasper. It´s called the Brokilon or forest jasper, and the dryads give it only to those who truly deserve it, as a sign or friendship and trust. Aglaïs gave me the gem as a token of our friendship. To hide it from curious eyes, I set it in an enchanted wire socket. No one will recognize what it is, unless you tell them. The dryads will know”, with these words, Cjardeth tied it around Yrdenne’s neck.   
“Thank you… Cjardeth,” Yrdenne’s voice cracked. With tears in her eyes she threw herself into his arms, and Cjardeth gently stroked her head.  
“Everything will be all right, human child”, he said. 

After some moments, he let go of her and begun the conjuration.  
Humming and mumbling ancient spells, the grey-haired elf pulled the envelope out of his pocket and opened it. He walked so close to the fire that Yrdenne wondered it didn´t burn him. Tensed, she watched how he reached into the flames and did something she had only seen once in her life: He picked a piece of fire like an apple from a tree. The fire in his hand started spinning and formed into a ball and when it stopped, Cjardeth simply placed it into the air. The fireball floated up and down in the rhythm of his chanting. Carefully, Cjardeth fished a single hair out of the envelope and placed it on top of the fireball – and as soon as if was devoured by the flame, the fireball started wobbling and weaving and changed its shape.  
Open mouthed Yrdenne watched how it turned into a burning version of Halwyn. The figure bowed to Cjardeth and stepped aside, while Cjardeth reached into the flames again, to pick the next fire apple.  
One after another, he created a flaming copy of every single nun-human of the refugee group.

When the last fire projection bowed to Cjardeth, he turned to Yrdenne again. Droplets of sweat were glistening on his brow, his arms hung strength-less by his sides and he looked exhausted.  
“Draw your sword. Follow me and don´t look back. From now on, they will hunt us,” he whispered with a hoarse voice. No waiting for a reply, he turned around and hurried into to woods.


	10. Silver Linings

Yrdenne did not know how she managed to still be hurrying through the woods at dawn. Cjardeth was always a few steps ahead, but, every now and then, he made sure she still followed him. And a stone throw behind them, glowing and glistening like ghosts born from ember and stars, the silent procession of the fire avatars. Whenever Yrdenne turned around to see if they were still there, a shiver ran down her spine.   
When the first birds started crooning their songs, Cjardeth slowed down and Yrdenne could catch up with him. The grey-haired elf was panting, and his hair was wet from sweat. Whatever was the source of the magic for this conjuration, keeping it upright had drained his strength.  
“How much further do we need to go?” Yrdenne asked. She, too, had to catch her breath.  
“The the fire images… will fade when… they are touched by sunlight,” Cjardeth gasped, “The magic trail will… end where they disappear... From there, we need to get a little further… to find a safe place... a safe place to hide… And to recover.”   
The forest around them changed the further they got western. The trees were higher and older, the treetops created a dense roof above their heads and the evenly weaving ground became craggy with steep hills and steep valleys. The whole area looked ancient and sublime to Yrdenne. The forest floor was covered by leaves and only very few smaller plats grew between those ancient trees. If the black armoured caught them here, they had no chance to run or hide. Eventually, Cjardeth lead them to a small clearing, that came into existence because one of the giant trees fell and ripped a hole into the canopy of leaves. In the middle of the clearing lay a huge, rotting stem, partially covered with moss. The ground where the sun would reach the soil was covered with a blanked of small plants with deep purple blossoms.   
Cjardeth walked straight to the fallen stem and sat down, heavily breathing. With trembling hands, he reached for his water skin and gulped down its content. The herbal scent that arose from the vessel told Yrdenne, that it was probably a potion or tonic to renew his strength.   
The first rays of the rising sun crawled over the treetops and started to bath the clearing in warm and bright light, exactly where the fire avatars would walk out of the trees.  
“They are coming,” Cjardeth noted with a hoarse voice and nodded towards the edge of the forest.  
Yrdenne turned her head. Mirhanwen’s image was the first to reach the clearing, and as soon as it stepped into the sunlight it started to fade into an airy cloud of smoke, and disappeared.  
Like they were created, one after another, the fire avatars stepped walked out of the forest and vanished.  
When the last was gone, Cjardeth sighed.  
“I am afraid, we do not have time to find a safe place to hide. They are already on the way, I can sense their mage reaching out for us. We have two hours to rest, and then we need to run. But these are the woods of my forefathers. If we are lucky, they might guard us through this.” With these words Cjardeth went down to the ground, curled up next to the stem and immediately fell asleep.   
At first, Yrdenne felt uneasy. They could not sleep in the middle of a clearing without someone on watch, did they? But she was exhausted and if Cjardeth was right, the worst lay still ahead. So she took the bow and the knapsack off her back and lay down next to the stem to sleep, her hands tight around the hilt of her sword.

“Yrdenne, quick! Get up,” Cjardeth called and gently shook Yrdenne by her shoulder. “They know we are using magic. I can barely sense them anymore. We need to leave.”  
Immediately, Yrdenne was wide awake and tore her eyes open. “What?”  
“At first, I could sense their mage clearly, despite the distance. But something changed, someone joined them and their trace became… foggy,” Cjardeth explained with knitted brows.   
Yrdenne got up. From the sun she could tell it was not even noon. How long did they rest? For sure, not long enough. Cjardeth had dark shadows under his eyes and his face looked hollow and drained.   
“Not far from here is a hidden territory that still belongs to the Aen Saevherne. Usually, dh’oine don´t make it out of there alive,” Cjardeth raised his hand and drew a glyph onto Yrdenne’s brow, “Let´s hope my sisters and brothers are still there.”   
A hidden Aen Saevherne territory in Temeria? Yrdenne was taken aback. She was intrigued and wanted to ask further questions, but Cjardeth handed her the knapsack and her bow, urging to set out. At least, she understood why he knew these woods so well and she realized, that he never planned to go to Castle La Valette, let alone Brokilon.   
Cjardeth chose a meandering route through the trees, and they walked fast. Yrdenne did her best to keep up the pace, even though her legs were already sore.  
“We are… almost there,” Cjardeth panted and raised his arm to point out the remains of what have must been a huge lithic gate. In the corner of her eye, Yrdenne saw how a relieved smile flitted across his face.

In the next moment, a crossbow quarrel bored into a tree next to them with a thud.  
Cjardeth and Yrdenne whirled around, only to see six armoured men on dark horses accompanied by a mage in a black cloak on a white mare. The mage was a skinny and pale man with long and sleek red hair, above his raised hand floated a few purple glowing stones. The triumphant grin on his beardless face was gut churning.  
“Where do you think are you running?” he sneered.  
“Yrdenne, run,” Cjardeth hissed with a low voice, eyes torn wide open.  
But Yrdenne slit the bow off her shoulder into her hand and reached for an arrow.   
“Oh look, the girl wants to protect her filthy elven friend,” one of the men laughed, “Adorable.”  
“What do you want from us? We are harmless travellers,” Cjardeth stated with a firm voice. He squared his back.  
“We both now you are not, sage,” snarled the red haired mage. “Where are your little non-human friends? They invaded Temeria to spread the illness. We are here to prosecute them.”  
“I don´t know what you are talking” – before Cjardeth could finish the sentence, a quarrel hit his left thigh. The elf gasped and his leg gave in. Half kneeling, his hands clawed at his thigh while he tried to keep his head high.  
Yrdenne pulled an arrow from her quiver and nocked it to the string. With her head up high, she aimed at their opponents. Two of the black armored men descended from their horses and drew their swords. As a response, Yrdenne drew her bow and released the arrow. It hit the ground in front of them, an ell away from their feet.  
While one man laughed, the other raised his eyebrows.   
“The next arrow will hit your face”, she growled and drew another one from her quiver. The beast in her chest was raging and adrenaline was rushing through her veins. Yrdenne was surprised how easy it was to stay calm on the outside. She knew, if she gave in to her fear now, they would not survive.  
Next to her, Cjardeth started mumbling in the strange language and in the corner of her eye she noticed that his hair started moving, as if the wind rose. Only, it was entirely windless in the forest.   
To distract the black armored from him, Yrdenne made a few steps towards them while she nocked the next arrow.  
“You better leave,” she said loudly and squared her back. Even though her heart was in her mouth and every fibre in her body wanted to turn and run, she persisted. She sent a prayer to the gods that the warriors did not notice her trembling legs.  
“You are free to go, girl,” the voice of the red-haired mage was almost melodic when he spoke to her, “We only want the elf.”  
Behind her, Yrdenne heard a strange humming. Whatever Cjardeth was doing, she hoped he did it quickly.  
“If you want him, you have to get past me,” she replied, “I killed Knight Varnhelm, Grandmaster of the Order of the Flaming Rose. You will be next.”  
The warriors burst into laughter, and the mage shook his head with a pitiful smile.  
“You don´t know what you are talking about. Step aside.”  
To underline her statement, Yrdenne drew her bow.   
With the next breath, a blast of light and air flashed past her and the pure release of power threw her to the side. Yrdenne’s body crashed against a tree, and she heart the yells and screams of the warriors.  
“Kill him NOW,” blared the mage.  
Panicking, Yrdenne tried to get back on her feed, but a stabbing pain flashed through her leg. She forced her eyes open and saw Cjardeth bathed in whitish-blue light. The quarrels aimed to end him burst into dust when they hit the light. The mage was ranting and three of the warriors walked towards him, swords drawn.   
With clenched jaws, Yrdenne tried to crawl to Cjardeth.   
Then, a ball of red light crashed into Cjardeth’s shield and with a . With wide eyes, the elf stared at the mage. The red-haired sat on his face and grinned, tiny red lightning bolts flashed from his fingertips.  
It was the last thing Cjardeth saw.

Yrdenne screamed when three quarrels hit his chest. With her last strength, she pushed herself up and stumbled to Cjardeth. She didn´t care that the warriors were coming for her. By his side, she fell on her knees and grabbed his shoulders, tears streamed down her face.   
“Stay with me!”, she sobbed.  
Cjardeth coughed foaming bright red blood, he gasped for air like he was drowning.  
“Got, get her. We are done here,” snarled the mage in the distance.  
The world around Yrdenne started to fade. All she saw was Cjardeth, the blood on his lips, the life fading from his eyes.   
A pair of hands grasped her shoulders and, violently, dragged her away from Cjardeth. Yrdenne tried to find hold on the ground, tried to grab anything that could save her from these men. Somehow, she managed to wrestle herself free for an instant, only to find her ankles in the tight grip of another black-armored. Hopeless, she started to kick and hit at whatever she saw, screaming at the top of her lungs.  
Out of nothing, another voice joined her screams, and another, full or panic and wrath.  
“ELVES!”  
Suddenly, everyone around her was screaming. The noises blended together with the shattering clash of metal, and the clang of blades on armor. Gasping for breath, Yrdenne managed to turn on her back. Through a veil of tears, she saw the black-armored fighting against figures shrouded in light and silver, wielding glistening curved blades. One of them appeared next to her and looked down at her. A wicked grin spread on the elf’s face, he bowed down and pressed something soft against her mouth and nose. Then, Yrdenne passed out.  
Everything around her faded to black. From time to time, she slipped back to consciousness for some instants, heard voices talking in Elder Speech. She felt that she was moved away. Armored arms held her, carried her. And everything turned dark again.

When Yrdenne woke up, every muscle of her body was aching. She barely felt her arms, only pain in her wrists, and when she tried to move an agonizing pain flashed through her shoulders. Her throat was sore and dry, and every breath felt like inhaling biting smoke.  
“Oh see, our guest is awake!”, said a male voice with an elvish accent.  
Yrdenne forced herself to finally open her eyes. In front of her stood a group of five elves in silver-ish armor, two males and three females. All of them had long hair, partially tied back, the rest falling over their shoulders. Their chest plates were adorned with three daisies. The elf in the middle watched her with a cocked head, arms crossed in front of his chest. Startled, she tried lean back, only to sense the rough bark of a tree against her back.  
They gave her a moment to figure out where she was. Yrdenne glanced left and right. In shock, she realized that they hand chained her to a tree. She had iron cuffs on both her wrists that were attached to two long iron chains. The ends of the chains were tied to two brig branches of the tree on her left and right, in about three metres height. When the sat slumped on the ground like now, the chains pulled on her arms, so she could barely move.  
“What… do you want from me?”, she asked with a hoarse voice.   
“You are not the one to ask questions, dh’oine,” hissed a dark blonde female.   
The male elf in the middle sent her a warning glance, then turned to Yrdenne. Strands of brown hair framed his insanely beautiful face.  
“Why were you in these woods?”, he asked. His voice was calm and cold.   
“My friend… my friend brought me here,” the realization hit her hard, “Where is Cjardeth!? Did he survive? Were you able to help him?” Her urge to talk irritated her throat and resulted in heavy coughing.   
“Your friend? The dying Aen Saevherne?” the brown-haired raised his eyebrows. “Was he the one who gave you the blessing?”  
Yrdenne fought hard against the tears. She did not understand what the elf was saying, and her attempt to reply ended in more coughing.   
“By the gods, bring her some water…”, the brown-haired rolled his eyes. One of the females walked to Yrdenne, kneeled down and held a water skin at her lips. Avidly, Yrdenne gulped down the water the elf gave her.   
She was still thirsty, when the elf drew the water skin away and simply dropped it next to Yrdenne. Aghast, Yrdenne watched her every movement when the elf returned to her comrades. Then, she noticed a movement behind their backs, someone came running towards them.  
“Cadfael, what the hell are you doing there?”, yelled the newcomer. It was a male elf with light blond hair and silver-grey eyes, and instead of armor he wore knee high rider’s boots, dark green trousers, a black jacket and a broad waist belt or sash with a green and yellow flower pattern. From his belt hung a sheathed sabre.   
The brown-haired elf – Cadfael – rolled his eyes again.   
“Idris, nice to see you. This is none of your business. Please leave. Thank you.”  
“You know the orders, no captives! Especially, no dh’oine!” the blond elf - Idris – snapped when he reached them. “Who is this?” He gestured at Yrdenne without even bothering to look at her.  
“We found her next to a dying Aen Seavherne…” – “Yes, I got the report, and I saw the corpse. Thank you,” there was a snarl in his voice, “And for your information, I knew him. He was a healer from Novigrad. So why did you bring this –” When Idris turned to Yrdenne, he tore his eyes wide open and froze in the middle of the sentence. He stared at her and blinked. And blinked again.  
“Aenye Bradlofrudd,” his voice was a whisper. The other elves watched him puzzled and Cadfael knitted his brows.  
“What?”  
“Did you entirely lose your gods damned mind?” Idris yelled. His chest was heaving and his cheeks turned red. “Do you fucking know who this is?”  
“I don´t know why you even care…” Cadfael pouted.  
“This woman is Aenye Bradlofrudd. She fought with us in Novigrad, and she saved countless lives! Non-human lives. She saved my life!”   
With a pounding heart, Yrdenne started Idris. He was a former Scoia´tael! Strained, she tried to remember him – and then it fell from her eyes. Idris. This was Eardreth’s partner! The blond elf who had almost died in the sickbay after they had freed Iorveth.   
“You set her free. Now!”, Idris barked at Cadfael, his hand on the hilt of his sabre.  
Cadfael laughed out.   
“She stays where she is. You are not commander in charge, as far as I know. I will not set her free. She might belong to the Purple Lantern.”  
“No, I am not, but neither are you. And if the General hears what you have done, he will behead you!” Idris squared his back and made a step towards his opponent.  
Cadfael leaned forward and looked Idris straight into the eyes.  
“Is that a threat, Scoia´tael scum?”  
“No, a promise,” snarled Idris. “If you don´t want to set her free, fine. But leave her alone. And I dare you to touch her.”  
“Fine,” growled Cadfael, “Then take good care of your little dh’oine whore.” He raised his arm and signed his comrades to leave.   
Idris waited until they were out of hearing range before he went to Yrdenne and kneeled down.  
“Aenye… Yrdenne, right?” he asked gently, “Are you injured?”  
Overwhelmed Yrdenne only stared at the blond elf and shook her head. Or, she tried to. With every movement, pain flashed through her skull. She pressed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth. Carefully, Idris laid a hand on her shoulder.  
“It´s allright. Don´t move. I will send a healer later, or at least bring you something to sooth the pain. Unfortunately, I can´t do much about the chains. Can you speak?”  
“Yes… my throat is… sore. But I can,” Yrdenne phrased the words carefully, scared she would cough again. Idris understood immediately and reached for the water skin on the ground.  
“Can you tell me what happened, to you and Cjardeth?” Idris asked after Yrdenne finished drinking.   
“Cjardeth and I tried to escape the black-armored. The past few days were… a nightmare”, Yrdenne begun. She felt how she teared up again and closed her eyes. Idris laid a hand on her face and wiped the tears away with his thumb.   
“You are safe here… even, if it might not feel like that right now.”  
Yrdenne nodded. Idris touch was soothing, and she managed to pull herself together. With a cracked voice, she told him how she and her friends had met Cjardeth and the refugees in the forest and what had happened the day after. Carefully, she concealed the reason of their journey, the fire and the black armored Dol Blathanna knight. After what Cadfael had done to her, she wasn´t entirely sure how far she could trust Idris.   
“You have been through a lot,” Idris said after Yrdenne ended her story. “I will make sure you get food and water. Unfortunately, as a former Scoia’tael, I am not in the position to do more for you. I am sorry. Tomorrow, I will speak to our Commander about this.”  
“You… do enough, Idris. Thank you,” replied Yrdenne. Even though she was exhausted, she tried to smile at him.  
Idris returned the smile.  
“Do you think you can get up? Standing will reduce the strain at your arms.”  
Before Yrdenne could answer, Idris was back on his feed and, without effort, he picked her up under her arms and lifted her up. The sudden change of her posture tore at Yrdenne’s ligaments and muscles, but when she stood, the chains stopped dragging her arms up. She could lean against the tree and a warm tickle spread through her numb arms and shoulders.   
“Thank you”, she replied surprised, “That´s better.”  
With a happy smile on his lips, Idris nodded.  
“I am glad. For now, I have to leave you alone. But I will come back, soon.”


	11. Branded

After Idris left, Yrdenne took the time to look around. The huge tree was the only one on a meadow, but the grass was rather short – probably from too many feet and hooves walking over it. On her left, the meadow ended at a rock face, almost like that of a stone quarry, but Yrdenne was unable to turn her head further to see what was behind the tree. Towards the end of the rock face, the elves had set up palisades that soon vanished behind what must be a military camp of the army of Dol Blathanna. The camp stretched out in front of her like a sea of tent-roofs with flags and bunting, and it was hard to tell how big the camp actually was. Between her prison tree to the edge of the camp lay what Yrdenne guess to be some sort of parade ground. The grass was flattened by hundreds of boods and hooves. At the right corner stood one larger tent that was adorned with a large black banner with three white daisies. Next to the tent, a huge horse paddock stretched to the other side of the palisade on Yrdenne’s right. And in the very corner Yrdenne saw that the palisade ended at a rock face, leading her to the conclusion the tree she was tied to stood against the crag at the end of the camp.   
While she waited for Idris to return, Yrdenne tried to relax her arms and shoulders as good as she could. Her left leg still hurt from the crash against the tree, and she sent a prayer to Melitele to give her access to some pain killer, soon. Otherwise, Yrdenne did not know if she could stand much longer.   
Eventually, Idris came back, accompanied by a female elf wearing plain green trousers and a white shirt. She carried a basket and smiled when Yrdenne met her gaze.  
“Yrdenne, this is Deryn,” Idris introduced the woman, “She works in the kitchen and asked to deliver the food in person. She is a former Scoia´tael and fought in Novigrad.”  
“Nice to meet you, Aenye Bradlofrudd,” said Deryn and nodded at Yrdenne.  
“Nice to meet you, Deryn,” Yrdenne replied and tried to smile, despite her aching limbs.   
“I brought you some breadwith cheese, fruits and diluted wine. It´s a shame what Cadfael did to you. I and the other Scoia´tael want you to know that we will speak for you, as soon as the General returns. Unfortunately, our voice is not heard from the Dol Blathanna Officers,” Deryn explained while she unwrapped the food and handed it Yrdenne. When she was standing, the chains were long enough for Yrdenne to eat on her own. Thankfully, she took the bread and devoured it greedily. She could not even remember when she had eaten something for the last time.   
“We will sort everything out tomorrow. Cadfael made clear that he does not want any Scoia´tael near this tree except when we bring food. But one of us will watch over you from the distance,” Idris tried hard to sound positive, but his worried glances over the shoulder from time to time kept Yrdenne suspicious. 

The uneasy gut feeling stayed after Idris and Deryn left. Yrdenne decided to stay standing as long as she could, she did not want to look like easy prey. She watched the edge of the camp carefully, how small groups of warriors got horses from the paddock and set out, perhaps for patrol, and others returned. Yrdenne noticed that they always used the same path through the tents, giving her a rough idea where the gate of the camp was. This gate was probably the only exit, if she did not want to climb up the crag behind her back.   
It was after dusk, when she spotted a group of elves with torches in the distance. The flickering light caught Yrdenne’s eye, because the rest of the camp was lit with lanterns. When she realized that they crossed the parade ground and came closer, the uneasy gut feeling turned into fear. They walked to upright and to confident to be former Scoia´tael.   
Whatever Idris friends tried to watch over her, it did not work. When they were close enough to see their faces, Yrdenne recognized Cadfael and three of his comrades, two of them carried the torches.   
“Good evening, dh’oine,” Cadfael sneered, “Or shall I call you Aenye Bradlofrudd?” His comrades laughed.   
“Yrdenne is fine, thank you,” Yrdenne snarled. She was well aware that they would use any sign of weakness against her.   
“It is marvellous how quickly the word of your arrival spread in the camp, you know,” Cadfael continued as he approached her. He stopped an arm length in front of her, with a mischievous smile on his lips. “You have quite a few admirers.”   
“So you came to realize it was a pretty bad idea to chain me to a tree?” she asked and raised her eyebrows.   
Cadfael laughed out.   
“No,” he leant forward, “I know human women like you. There were plenty others, who followed the Scoia´tael simply because they have a kink for Aen Seidhe dicks.” Cadfael grinned when he saw Yrdenne frowning. “I can´t blame them, but these practices are thinning our blood. So I decided to teach you a lesson.”  
Yrdenne swallowed and tried to square her back.   
“What do you meant?”  
“You might not want elven dicks after this,” Cadfael replied and blinked at her. Instead, he turned his head to one of his comrades and nodded towards Yrdenne. “Trousers down.”  
Yrdenne’s eyes widened. Her heart was in her mouth and she felt like throwing up as she watched how the elf walked to her with a nasty smirk. Cadfael stepped aside and leant again the tree next to Yrdenne, to give his comrade room. When the elf stood in front of her, Yrdenne pressed her body against the tree to bring as much distance between them as she could. It was pointless.  
“No need to be shy,” the elf said with a heavy accent. He was insanely beautiful with his sleek black hair, the high cheekbones and the proud blue eyes. A true Dol Blathanna pure blood. When his hands reached for the buckle of Yrdenne’s belt, she tried to turn away and kick his shin. Whatever they planned to do to her, she would not give in easily. But the elf just laughed.  
“Oh dear, don´t make it worse. You can´t escape this,” murmured Cadfael into her ear.   
After another attempt to fight him, the black-haired elf pressed Yrdenne against the tree with his whole weight. She gasped for breath while the elf unbuckled her belt and ripped her pants open. Tears shot into her eyes when he pulled her trousers and undergarments down. Not without a curious glance at her nakedness, the elf stepped back for Cadfael.   
“Human women are most beautiful when they fear us,” Cadfael murmured and leaned over her. There was not even an inch of space between them and his face was so close to hers that she could smell the wine in his breath. He grabbed her buttocks with one hand brought his lips to her ear. “No need to be scared, it´s over soon.”  
Yrdenne pressed her eyes shut and held her breath.  
Someone pressed her torso against the tree and calloused hands reached for her left leg. They took her left boot off, dragged her leg out of her trousers and twisted it, and before she understood what happened to her, an excruciating pain flashed through her thigh. Her scream drowned in the laughter of the Dol Blathanna warriors. When Yrdenne tore her eyes open, she saw Cadfael waving with an arrow in his hand. The arrowhead was glowing in a very dark red.  
“You will be a branded Scoiat´ael broodingmare!” he said joyfully and put the arrowhead into the flame of a torch. Yrdenne’s gaze flitted to her hip, where the bright red triangular imprint marked the origin of her pain. A few instants later, the grip around her leg tightened and Cadfael pressed the glowing arrowhead onto her skin a second time. Yrdenne had barely enough breath to scream. Tears ran down her face and her attempts to rip at the chains tore the skin on her wrists open.   
“No need to panic, we are almost done,” hummed Cadfael, “Three arrows are the symbol of the Scoia´tael, only one more to go.”  
While he heated the iron arrowhead again, Yrdenne’s mind was flooded with escape plans and the fear of the pain was overwhelming. She prayed to Melitele to let her pass out before Cadfael branded her the third time – but the goddess did not grace her.  
Wide awake she took the final burn. Her whole leg felt as if was on fire and the sizzling sound of the glowing arrow head on her skin bit in her ears.   
Then, they let go of her. Yrdenne dropped to the ground, the chains tearing at her wrists again. Sobbing, she tried to curl up, her left leg twisted so nothing would touch her wounds. The elves looked down at her as if she was a disgusting vermin.   
“Now, every of my brothers will recognize you as what you are when you try to seduce them,” Cadfael spat and pursed his lips. “You can keep this as a token,” he added and threw the arrow on the ground.   
Laughing and joking, they left her behind in the darkness. 

Yrdenne was unable to tell how much time passed. Eyes closed shut, she whispered to herself that this was only a nightmare, that the pain would fade, again and again. The stinging pain in her leg started spreading, at some point Yrdenne did not know if any part of her body was unharmed. when she felt something cold against the skin, Yrdenne did not know if she was dreaming or awake, so she kept her eyes shut. Someone applied an ointment and a cold compress to her hip.   
“Drink this, and you will sleep,” whispered a female voice. The voice sounded grandmotherly, almost ancient, and the hand that stroked Yrdenne’s cheek felt dry and wrinkled. The opening of a bottle was pressed against Yrdenne’s lips, so she did how she was told.   
The liquid was thick and bitter and burnt in her throat, but whoever gave it to her forced her to drink the entire bottle. Nausea hit her, but the pain started to vanish. A tar-like blackness oozed into her mind. At the edge of her consciousness, Yrdenne noticed how an itchy blanket was wrapped around her shoulders. Then she was gone.

It was a long dreamless sleep wrapped in a soft cloud of blackness and Yrdenne had no intention to ever wake up again. When someone shook her shoulders and softly slapped her cheek, Yrdenne fought against the morning light, that faded into the soft darkness of her dreamlike-mind. But eventually, she noticed the warmth of the sun on her face.  
“Yrdenne, wake up! By the gods, what happened!”, it was Idris who called her.  
Yrdenne was reluctant to open her eyes. The morning light was blinding.  
“Idris… what is wrong?” Yrdenne mumbled and turned her head away to shield her eyes from the sun.   
“What happened to you?”, Idris asked again, “Who brought you the clothing and the blanket?”  
Clothing?  
When Yrdenne’s eyes adjusted to the light, she looked into Idris worried face, and then down at herself. She still wore her shirt and jacket, but instead of her boots and trousers, a wide woollen skirt covered her legs and a pair of knitted socks warmed her feet.  
“And who bandaged your hands?”  
Yrdenne raised her gaze, only to find her wrists wrapped into blood stained dressings underneath the iron cuffs. A throbbing pain in her left side reminded her of what Cadfael had done to her. Yrdenne swallowed.  
“Cadfael…” she mumbled. Her throat was sore and dry.  
“He gave you a skirt and a blanket?” Idris was puzzled and Yrdenne realized that he had no idea what Cadfael and his fellows had done to her. So she decided that she did not want to share this experience. She shook her head and almost regretted it, when dizziness hit her. She inhaled and closed her eyes for an instant.  
“No, no he didn’t. There was this… elderly lady. She came when…” Yrdenne hesitated, “She came when I was almost asleep. I thought it was a dream.”  
Idris frowned.  
“Anyway, I brought you breakfast. Can you get up?”  
“Sure,” Yrdenne replied, but when Idris helped her to get back on her feet, her legs almost gave in and she had to lean against the tree.  
“You are in far worse condition than yesterday,” Idris stated and did not let go of her, “Do you feel sick? Shall I call a healer?”

“She is doing splendidly!” said a rough voice behind Idris. Cadfael was back, and with him two warriors. “What are you doing here anyway, didn´t I forbid you and the Scoia´tael scum to come near my captive?”  
Idris whirled around.  
“When you are not capable of basic needs, someone else has to take care of your captive.”  
“I doubt fancy clothing and bedding count as basic needs, my dear,” snarled Cadfael.   
“Um… Cadfael, I think the general is back,” mumbled one of the warriors and pointed at the horse paddock. Everyone turned their head, and Yrdenne saw a group of five horsemen returning to the paddock. Three of them wore the silver-grey armor Yrdenne had seen on the other Dol Blathanna soldiers, but the other two were clad in pitch black steel. Someone in a yellow tunic came running towards them from the camp, Yrdenne heard the elf yelling and saw her gesturing at them.   
The armored horsemen seemed to speak to each other, and the elf in the yellow tunic yelled louder. One of the warriors took the helmet off and threw it to one of the bystanders, then he spurred his horse towards the tree. The elf in the yellow tunic followed him running.  
A triumphant grin spread on Idris face.  
“Oh Cadfael, now you are in trouble.”  
The black-armored warrior, obviously the mysterious general, had dark brown hair that almost grazed his shoulders, and something black covered half of his face. When he came closer, Yrdenne realized that it was a black bandage, almost like an eyepatch. Her heart beat so heavy in her chest that she was sure it was audible for miles. A storm was raging in her chest about to burst her ribcage, she could barely breath.   
It was Iorveth.

A stone throw away from her, he stopped the horse and jumped off its back. Cadfael made a few steps backwards as if he wanted to run away, and seeing Iorveth’s face turn from stern to raging wrath in the moment he recognized Yrdenne and the situation she was in, told everyone around that indeed Cadfael better would be running. But it was too late.   
Iorveth made it to them in pace and crashed against Cadfael without slowing down, his iron-gloved hand clasping Cadfael’s throat.  
“What in Aelirenn’s name have you done?” Iorveth did not raise his voice, but it was as sharp as a blade. Cadfael could only gasp for breath.  
“He made a captive,” Idris replied instead.  
“Set her free. Now,” Iorveth ordered with snarl in his throat.   
Cadfael started to pat at his sides as if he was searching for something, but with Iorveth’s hand around his throat he had difficulties to move his head – and to breathe.  
Iorveth looked down, spotted the keyring on his belt and ripped it off its hook. He pushed Cadfael away, was at Yrdenne’s side in a heartbeat and unlocked her cuffs.   
As soon as the iron chains did not hold her, Yrdenne’s legs ultrimately gave in and she fell forwards right into Iorveth’s arms.  
She tried to pull herself together, but she started sobbing the moment he wrapped his arms around her. Finally, the nightmare was over.  
“It´s all good now. I will take care,” Iorveth whispered and stroked her back. He took the time to hold her for a few breaths before he handed her to Idris. Carefully, the blond elf took Yrdenne into his arms.  
“Idris, take her to the cave, give her whatever she asks for. As soon as I am done with Cadfael, I will be with you.”  
Idris nodded and after a glance at Yrdenne’s legs, he decided that it was faster to carry her to wherever Iorveth had ordered him to take her. The last thing Yrdenne heard was Iorveth turning to Cadfael again.  
“You will explain this to me, in detail. And then I will hear her, and if you lied to me, may the gods have mercy upon your soul.”


	12. Crystals and Kisses

To Yrdenne’ surprise, Idris did not carry her to the camp. He took her around the tree towards what Yrdenne believed was an old stone quarry. But when she finally caught eye of the crag, she realized how bad her guess was. The crag of light grey stone rose high into the sky and the rock face was actually the carved façade of an ancient temple. In the middle of the cliff was a huge two winged gate, guarded by two griffin statues, one on each side. Next to the gate, four pillars with stone ivy carried the ledge above the gate, like a canopy. Coming closer, Yrdenne discovered more doors and also windows in the rock face, as if a sculptor had tried to capture the scenery of a city in stone.   
Idris hurried towards one of those smaller doors and whoever was inside seemed to await them. It swung open without a sound in the instant they reached it.  
Inside was a narrow hallway with a high ceiling, doors branched off left and right. The first door on the left was open and Idris walked through without hesitation.   
Yrdenne was surprised to find herself in a bright and spacious but very cosy kitchen with two huge windows. The walls were of the light grey stone, but the furniture was made of light brown wood.In the middle of the room stood a huge dining table with a flower bouquet on top, and across the wall were shelves filled with different sized jars of preserved food next to an iron stove. On the stove, Yrdenne spotted a water kettle and a pot with steaming porridge. Next to the stove stood a female elf with crossed arms.  
“If you hadn´t brought her now, I would have gotten her off that chain myself,” the women snorted. Her dark eyes sparkled and her brown hair, streaked with grey, fell over her shoulder in a thick braid. She wore a simple but very elegant dark blue dress. And something in the way she looked at Yrdenne reminded her of Cjardeth.  
“We had to wait for Iorveth,” Idris explained and let Yrdenne down on one of the chairs. “Yrdenne, this is Dwynwen. She is one of the Aen Savherne of the Scared Hall.”  
“He kame, because I called for him,” replied Dwynwen and frowned. Helplessly, Idris shrugged. Dwynwen shook her head and turned to Yrdenne with a gentle smile. “How are you, my dear? Are you in the mood for breakfast, or may I show you a bedroom, so you can catch some sleep?”  
Yrdenne was too upset and exhausted to wonder about the city carved into stone, or whatever the Sacred Hall might be. But the soft voice of Dwynwen and the delicious smell of food finally calmed her down.  
“Nice… nice to meet you, Dwynwen,” she said with a hoarse voice. Her throat was still sore. “Breakfast sounds wonderful. And, I would be grateful for a bit of warm water and a piece of soap afterwards.”  
Dwynwen hurried through the kitchen like a whirlwind, and in to time a cup with peppermint infusion and a bowl of porridge with grated apples stood in front of Yrdenne.  
“Enjoy your meal,” Dwynwen smiled, “But eat slowly, and don´t force it down. I will show you the baths afterwards.”  
“Do you need anything else? A clean shirt maybe?” asked Idris while Dwynwen sat down across the table. He watched Dwynwen suspiciously and glanced at the door.   
Yrdenne was about to shake her head, but then she looked down at herself. The cuffs of her jacket were soaked in her own blood, and the shirts she wore underneath was sprinkled in blood, too. Her own, and probably Cjardeth’s. Only the woollen skirt was clean, but the fabric was itchy and the cold of the stone floor started creeping into her feet.  
“Clean clothes, if that´s possible. Or a possibility to wash mine. And I think my boots…” she paused, wondering what happened to her belongings.   
Idris face lit up. “I saw them on the ground next to the tree, with your trousers. I will go and get them.”  
“You may leave them at the doorstep,” said Dwynwen, “I will take care of everything.”  
Relieved, Idris nodded. “Wonderful. See you later then. Iorveth might show up when he´s done with Cadfael…”  
“He knows where to find us”, assured Dwynwen, and Idris was out of the door. 

After she finished her meal, Dwynwen took Yrdenne deeper into the mountain. Behind the last door of the hallway started a long corridor, slightly spiralling upwards. The walls were of rough stone and greenish lamps that reminded Yrdenne of Aryells glow stones lit the way.   
They were on the third or fourth level when Dwynwen lead Yrdenne through an arched passage into another hallway with six doors. Five were black, and one was white with a seashell painted on.   
“The rooms on the left are guest bedrooms, you can choose one later. And this,” Dwynwen opened the white door, “are the baths.”   
At first, Yrdenne did not understand why Dwynwen used the plural of bath, but when she entered the room, she understood.   
The baths were no single room, but rather a group of several connected oval caverns with high arched ceilings of huge blue-ish white crystals, almost like the sky was trapped inside them. Despite the lack of windows, the caves where as bright as if daylight flooded in through the crystals. In the first cave, seats and even loungers were carved into the walls or stood in the middle of the caves, almost like they were grown out of the rock. Open-mouthed Yrdenne stared at the stone structures. Awestruck, she followed Dwynwen through an arched passage into the next cave and discovered why these caves were called baths.   
Made – or grown – from the same blue-ish white crystal and glowing from within, a pool filled with turquoise water stretched over the entire length of the cavern.  
“The pools are fed by hot springs, so the water is always warms. This is the largest one, if you want to take a swim. But there are smaller ones in the neighbouring cavern, if you prefer a simple bath,” Dwynwen explained smiling. “Your burn should be almost healed, so you don´t need to worry about it when you get into the water. I will leave you alone to get a towel and some undergarments for you. You find soap in the shelve over there, and you can simply drop your clothes to the ground. Please, make yourself at home.”  
“It was you who helped me, last night,” mused Yrdenne, “You bandaged my wound and gave me the skirt.”  
Dwynwen nodded briefly and her expression darkened. “I heard you scream. At first I thought these vermin had gotten their hands on another poor Scoia´tael. I send note to their general, because they only dare to play this cruel game when he is not in the camp. He is a former Scoia´tael, too. If it wasn´t for him, we had never allowed Dol Blathanna to occupy our grounds.” She sighed and brushed a loose hair strand off her face. “I was quite surprised to find a dh’oine under that tree, one with a blessing even. And that necklace… It belonged to my brother, once.” When Yrdenne opened her mouth to respond, Dwynwen shook her head. “It is not the time for storytelling yet. Take care of your body and soul, and we speak afterwards. You are safe here, no one can enter this place without my permission.”  
With these words, she left Yrdenne alone.

The door of the baths fell shut, and Yrdenne slowly started to peel herself out of the filthy clothes. She dropped everything right where she stood. When she started to unwrap the bandages on her wrists, she was scared of the pain, but to her utter surprise, the wounds of the metal cuffs looked like they were almost two weeks old. The three burn marks on her hip and thigh, too, looked like they were healing quite well. With the tip or her index, Yrdenne traced the edges of the three arrowheads.   
Branded, like a mare.   
Recalling Cadfael’s words made her sick. Despite the pleasant warmth in the caverns, a cold shiver ran down Yrdenne’s spine. Branded, like a Scoia´tael, if she understood Dwynwen right.   
Yrdenne brushed the thought away, grabbed a piece of soap from the shelf and walked to the crystal pool.  
When her aching body finally sunk into the turquoise water and the warmth embraced her, Yrdenne could finally let her mind start to process the past days. But whenever she seemed to lose control over her thoughts and her mind got stuck in fear and darkness, there was his face. Iorveth.  
Iorveth was alive, and well, and he was here.   
Yrdenne’s thoughts circled around him and she felt like a million butterflies flutter ed through her chest and stomach. He wore the same armour like in Novigrad, but his hair was longer now. Iorveth.  
Every time she recalled his face, even though his expression had been angry and worried, Yrdenne’s lips curled into a smile.  
She took time to wash every inch of her skin. It was an attempt to wash the past days away. As if she had sensed it, Dwynwen returned a breath after Yrdenne noticed she was unable to properly wash her hair, because her arms and shoulders were sore and the muscles were tense.   
The Aen Saevherne brought a huge and soft towel, white silken undergarments and a light green night gown. When she realized how Yrdenne struggled to raise her arms, Dwynwen put everything down on a stone seat and hurried to the pool.  
“Let me help you, my dear,” she insisted with a soft smile.  
Yrdenne hesitated at first, but the choice between accepting help and keeping un-washed hair was easy to make.   
“Thank you, I´d be lost without you”, Yrdenne admitted and handed Dwynwen the soap. 

After Dwynwen washed and rinsed Yrdenne’s hair, she assisted her to get out of the pool and wrapped her into the soft towel.   
“I assumed you need to rest after this turbulent chain of events. I chose a nightgown for you, but I am sure Idris will organize decent clothing in the meantime,” Dwynwen explained while she showed Yrdenne the garments she brought. Marvelled, Yrdenne ran her hands over the soft silken undergarments: a pair of pants and a short underdress.   
Dwynwen was about to reach for the nightgown, when they heard the sound of an opening door. Startled, Yrdenne stared at Dwynwen, but the female elf was calm and relaxed. Even when Yrdenne heard footsteps on the polished floor coming closer, Dwynwen did not seem to be alert. She unfolded the nightgown and held it up, so Yrdenne could see it.  
“The nightgown is a beautiful choice, Dwynwen,” said a voice.  
Yrdenne turned to the person that came through the arched passage from the entrance cavern. A smile spread on her face and her heartrate increased. Iorveth.   
He was barefoot and wore simple black trousers and a plain dark red shirt. His hair was messy, as if he had hurried to get out of his armour and did not bother taking the time to look into a mirror afterwards. On his left cheekbone was a small bleeding cut.  
“Of course it is,” answered Dwynwen and raised an eyebrow, “But it is rather inappropriate to storm into a ladies’ bathroom, don´t you think?” As if to underline her statement, she stepped in front of Yrdenne, who still wore only undergarments. “I know have the urge to investigate what happened. But I suggest you come back later to interrogate her. At least, you took your boots off in my house.”  
It took Yrdenne a moment to realize that Dwynwen probably did not know about the relationship between her and Iorveth.   
“It´s all right. Iorveth and I are… old friends,” she explained and met Iorveth’s gaze. Even though Dwynwen spoke to him, he did not take his eye off her.  
Dwynwen, however, raised both eyebrows and turned to Yrdenne.  
“You two know each other? That is quite surprising. And despite that Cadfael chained–”   
“They did not know who I am. I am sure Iorveth made that clear,” Yrdenne interrupted Dwynwen. She was afraid Dwynwen unintentionally revealed to Iorveth what Cadfael had done to her.   
“Trust me, I did,” Iorveth added grimly and clenched his fist, then, more friendly he added: “Dywnwen, I can´t thank you enough for taking care of Yrdenne. But do you mind to leave us alone? We haven´t seen each other for… a few years.”  
Dwynwen switched her gaze from Yrdenne to Iorveth. She smiled, but slightly knitted her brows.   
“Sure. Let me know if you need anything,” the old elf replied, “I will hear you, when you call for me.”  
With that, she left them alone.

Wordless, Yrdenne and Iorveth stood a few steps away from each other, almost as if they did not dare to touch, in case this was just a dream. Yrdenne noticed that Iorveth had changed. He stood upright and proud, as always, but despite his casual clothing he looked authoritarian. His back was broader and, probably as a result of better access to food and harder training, he had gained muscles. He was not the exhausted, always alert and often starving Scoia´tael anymore. He was a warrior, maybe more than ever before.  
“When I saw you at that tree, I did not believe my eyes,” it was Iorveth who spoke first. “And I could not decide if it was a nightmare – or a dream coming true. But it´s you. You are here.” His voice cracked. “Sor’ca.”  
It did not take more. Yrdenne sprinted forward and crashed into his arms.   
Iorveth embraced her and held her so tight as if she would vanish into thin air as soon as he let go. Yrdenne buried her face at his neck, her arms wrapped around his waist.  
“Iorveth,” she whispered against his skin, “You´re alive.”  
His response was a huffed laughter. “Did you hear otherwise?”  
Yrdenne pulled back a little, so she could look at his face. The colour of his scar was more even and it looked less angry, he probably received decent treatment in Dol Blathanna. The fresh cut on his face had stopped bleeding and his eye was sparkled in this beautiful moss green she had missed so badly through all those years. Her heart fluttered.  
“Yes, I did. I was told you disappeared and abandoned your unit. I was told you were dead.” Yrdenne swallowed. “I did not believe it at first, but with every month I did not hear anything from you...” A tear ran down her face. She had almost believed the rumours, and remembering how that felt was choking.  
Iorveth´s expression softened and he kissed the tear away. The sensation of his lips on her cheek sent a warm shiver through her body.   
“I have no words to tell you how sorry I am. That I did not come to find you, that I did not send a note…” Iorveth met her gaze and laid his hands on her hips. “I tried to find a safe space for the Scoia´tael, out of Nilfgaard’s reach, and again I got entangled in military and political enmeshment. I wanted to return to Oxenfurt, but… being who I am I can barely move unnoticed in the Northern Realms.” He hesitated for an instant, then he kissed her brow. “I missed you.”  
“I missed you, too,” Yrdenne sighed, “If you did not even make it to Oxenfurt, you probably would not make it to Vizima either.”  
“Why would I go to Vizima?” Iorveth raised his eyebrow.  
“After Radovid’s death, Thaler and Vernon came to Oxenfurt. Thaler wanted Malik for the Temerian Secret Service and Vernon asked me to come to Vizima, too. I am the court physician and confident of Lady Anaïs La Valette.”  
“You call him Vernon???”  
Yrdenne frowned and was about to reply, but Iorveth interfered.  
“Please excuse. Roche and I have a complicated relationship”, he cleared his throat, “I am happy to hear you found a new home and you receive the recognition as a healer you deserve.” A gentle smile flitted across his face. “Talking about that…” Iorveth took her hand in his, raised it and examined the wounds on her wrists. “I assume Dwynwen took care of your injuries. Are you all right?”  
Yrdenne nodded, “It´s not that bad. The chains were unpleasant, and I have bruises from the fight… But nothing serious.” She freed her hand and tucked at the seam of her underdress to make sure Iorveth would not notice the branding.   
He misinterpreted the gesture, immediately let go of her and stepped back.  
“Are you uncomfortable? Do you want to get dressed? Idris gave me clothes for you, I left them at the door.”  
Quickly, Yrdenne shook her head. “It´s all right, really. I am just… overwhelmed. The past days were too much. And I am nervous, because of all people I did not expect to find you at the end of my flight.” She bit her lip and her cheeks tinted in a slight pink. “But here you are. And I am such a mess again.”  
Iorveth cupped her face with his hands. “From what I heard, you were very brave. The men of the Purple Lantern are extremely dangerous and we avoid open conflicts whenever we can. By the gods, I don´t know what I would have done if our sentinels hadn´t noticed…” He swallowed. “If those quarrels were meant for you instead…” Iorveth closed his eye and leant his brow against Yrdenne’s.   
There was no need to finish the sentence. Yrdenne knew. She closed the gap between them and leant her body against his, wrapped one arm around his neck and raised the other hand to his face, dug her fingers into his hair.   
Sensing his body against hers, sensing his heaving chest against hers, was at the same time the most calming but also unsettling feeling. This elf turned her world upside down.  
“Yrdenne…” Iorveth’s voice was a whisper.   
She could not help it. Yrdenne closed her eyes and kissed him, briefly and so gentle their lips barely touched. A vortex of thousand butterflies whirled through her chest and her knees felt so week that, for a moment, she was scared she would fall.   
Iorveth stopped breathing. When Yrdenne opened her eyes, she saw that he was staring at her, marvelled, wondering. Her heart was pounding like war drums.   
Before she could say anything, Iorveth wrapped his arm around her waist to draw her even closer and laid his lips on hers. His kiss was shy at first, but when Yrdenne kissed him back, tasted his lips and pressed herself against him, only thin layers of fabric between them, it was like he opened his soul to her. Claiming, Iorveth’s tongue parted her lips and caressed her mouth while his hands stroke down her back and, gently, grabbed her behind. Every fibre in Yrdenne’s body tickled, endorphins rushed through her veins and heat rose between her thighs. Sensing his hands on her body and the desire in his loins drove her to the edge of reality. The world around her was fading away, and all Yrdenne wanted was to be with Iorveth. Kissing him, tasting him, feeling him, all over her.  
When his hand wandered to the outside of her thigh, he touched the burn marks and a slight pain flashed through her leg.  
Now, every of my brothers will recognize you as what you are. Cadfael’s words echoed in her mind.  
Yrdenne’s muscles tensed and she drew back.   
“Iorveth… I…” unable to explain, she turned her head away and stared at the wall.   
Again, Iorveth stepped back to give her room.  
“I am sorry,” he murmured, “I should have been more considerate.”   
“No! Iorveth, it´s nothing you did,” Yrdenne inhaled deeply, “I have to apologize. I can´t let go of the things that happened and my head is full of… ugly things.”  
Gently, Iorveth lifted her chin with his hand and turned her head, so Yrdenne had to look at him.  
“There is nothing you need to apologize for,” he stated and the unbound affection in his gaze broke Yrdenne’s heart. She hated herself that she pushed him back right after they met again. “You have all the time you need to rest and to figure things out. You are safe here, you can stay as long as you want. Maybe follow Dwynwen’s advice and catch sleep. Meet me in my tent later, and we can talk,” Iorveth suggested and stroke her cheek. “I will be there for you.”  
Yrdenne nodded, and once more she threw her arms around his chest and leant against him. Softly, he patted her back and ran his hand over her head. “I will be there.”

After he left, Yrdenne felt empty and drained. The exhaustion crawled through her limbs, she did not bother to put on the nightgown. Instead, she scuffled to the door, grabbed the pile of clothes that lay on a stone seat and went for one of the bedrooms Dwynwen had showed her. Once inside, she kicked the door shut, dropped everything on the ground and plunged into the bed. Fortunately, the sleep came quickly and was dark and dreamless.


	13. Blood Red Wine

Yrdenne did not know where she was when she woke up. Panicking, she sat up and looked around. A bed, a chair with folded clothes, a dressing table with a mirror and a plate with sandwiches on top, a painting of a tree on the wall across the room, dim light shining through closed curtains. She was tucked in the heavy duvet, so someone must have been in her room while she was asleep.   
Then, she remembered: Cadfael, Idris, Dwynwen, Iorveth. She remembered the branding, Dwynwen’s kindness, and Iorveth, how he saved her, and kissed her. A pleasant tickle rushed through her body. With a smile on her lips Yrdenne got up.   
Curious what she would see, she opened the curtains and looked out of the window. Her room was located quite high in the cliff, she could oversee see the tree, the parade ground and the whole camp. From her room, the scenery looked like a toy town. The sinking sun dyed the roofs of the tents in a bright orange, and the horses grazed peacefully in the paddock. No hints of the cruelty that happened to her. With clenched teeth, Yrdenne pulled the underdress up and examined her thigh. Thanks to Dwynwen’s treatment, and probably her magic, the burn marks were healing quickly, but the scars would remain. Shivering, she turned away and checked the pile of clothes on the chair next to her. Plain brown trousers and a green tunic with a floral pattern, so Scoia´tael-like it made Yrdenne chuckle. Her preference for these colours were deeply rooted in her childhood and she wondered if Iorveth had picked these. The sooner she got ready, she sooner she would see him again. Quickly, she devoured the sandwiches, brushed her hair with a silver brush she found on the dressing table, braided it and got dressed. She felt rested and refreshed and was in a way better condition than earlier. All she wanted was to get back to Iorveth and talk to him.   
Since her boots were nowhere to be found, she hurried down the spiral hallway on her socks. On the way down, she noticed two doors and she wondered what lay behind them. This place, The Sacred Hall, how Idris had called it, was a truly mystical place.   
The doors of the entrance hall were all open, and Yrdenne gazed into every room. To her disappointment, Dwynwen was not around when Yrdenne reached the little apartment on the ground floor. At least, her boots stood on a shoe rack next to the entrance door.   
Yrdenne left the house with a bounce in her step. It had been a while since she could move so freely.   
She crossed the parade ground and asked the first sentinel where she could find Iorveth.   
Of course, the general was accommodated in the largest tent, the one Yrdenne had seen from the tree. When she approached, she realized that it had the size of a small house and the awning was actually a double door. The entrance was guarded by a fierce red-haired female.   
“How can I help you?” she asked friendly and smiled.  
“Hello, I´d like to see Iorveth,” Yrdenne replied and smiled back. This elf was much kinder than those who had been with Cadfael.   
“Sure, go ahead. He awaits you,” the sentinel nodded and held the canvas open for Yrdenne. 

The inside of the tent was much smaller than Yrdenne guessed, and to her surprise the tent even had a wooden floor. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light, but then she realized that the back half of the tent must be separated by a heavy curtain. In the front part stood a huge table surrounded by ten massive cushioned chairs with carved arm rests. On top of the table lay maps, a dagger, two plates with food, a blue glass bottle partially filled with a dark liquid, presumably wine, and a goblet, a variety of other things and – to her surprise – her bag, and Cjardeth’s, too. In the corner of the tent, she spotted a rack with Iorveth’s black armor.   
Iorveth stood at the table, still wearing his casual clothes, and stared at a sheet of paper between his hands. He frowned.  
“Um… Hello Iorveth.” Yrdenne cleared her throat.  
Iorveth looked up and his expression relaxed.  
“Hello, Yrdenne. Did you get some rest?” Quickly, he took the paper, folded it in half and shuffled it into a pile of other documents next to him.   
“Yes, I slept like a new-born”, Yrdenne brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “When I woke up I had to convince myself meeting you was not just a dream.”  
A brief smile flitted across Iorveth’s face and he moved around the table to welcome her. Yrdenne had to pull herself together to not throw herself into his arms again, and it was a relief when he finally embraced her. For an instant Yrdenne closed her eyes and inhaled his scent. Iorveth still smelled like pine trees and forest – and lavender.   
“This feels very real to me,” Iorveth mused. He kissed the top of her head and let go of her. “Do you want to eat something, or drink a glass of wine? I believe there is a lot to talk about, so we should make it as comfortable as possible.”  
“I already ate something, but wine sounds wonderful.”  
A smirk flitted across Iorveth’s face.  
“I keep the wine in my private room. The officers are utter drunkards if you let them. Follow me.” With these words, he went to the curtain and drew it open. 

Yrdenne was awestruck when she entered what Iorveth had called his private room. The part of the tent that was separated by the curtain could have been mistaken for a sleeping chamber in a palace. The room was illuminated by several bright lanterns, similar to those in Dwynwen’s cave house. On the floor lay thick knotted carpets with delicate floral patterns. The walls were decorated with tapestry that showed scenes from legends or fairy-tales – Yrdenne recognized dragons and unicorns and a blond woman who stood in front of a high tower. There was a wardrobe and a dresser, a round table with gold leaf decoration, a divan made of green velvet and a four poster bed with matching curtains, big enough for three people to comfortably sleep in without touching the others. The dark green bedsheets were embroidered with a floral pattern as well. And next to the bed stood a nice shelf filled with dark green bottle of wine.  
“That is… impressive,” was all Yrdenne could say.  
Iorveth followed her stare and scratched his head.  
“This is what comes along when you are a general of Dol Blathanna’s army. I would have preferred a plain tent next to those of my warriors, but I had no choice,” he explained while he went to the wine shelf and picked a bottle. “You find glasses on the dresser.”  
Yrdenne turned around and found a set of four glasses. Yes, glasses. Not earthen mugs, or goblets, but real crystal glasses. This accommodation was truly not Iorveth’s style. She decided, that there was no particular need for glasses. Iorveth seemed to agree, he already used a knife from his bedside table to remove the cork and took a sip straight from the bottle.  
“Maybe… maybe that is something to start with. How did you become general?” Yrdenne asked and sat down on the bet. Iorveth took off his boots and sat down cross-legged next to her. “Vernon was the last one who saw you alive. He told me about the battle and that you disappeared the morning after.”  
Iorveth inhaled deeply.   
“I never wanted to. It´s the result of a bargain with Francesca Findabhair. She lured me to Dol Blathanna and I followed her invitation in the hope to she would allow the Scoia´tael to come home,” his face darkened with every word he spoke, “She agreed that every former Scoia´tael who is willing to contribute to the continued existence of the Aen Seidhe was welcomed in the Valley of Flowers. The only condition was that I swore an oath to serve her as a general – and do not get in touch with anyone outside of Dol Blathanna. She wants me as the ace up her sleeve.”  
Yrdenne raised her eyebrows. “Continued existence? Does that mean–” “Breeding. She allows pregnant females to return, and fertile couples. And those who are willing to… find a partner.” Iorveth took another sip of wine.  
“And… she trusts you with leading her army?”  
“I am one of three generals. One of us has to stay in Dol Blathanna, one is allowed to accompany the ambassadors and one is stationed here, in the Military exclave. We switch turns, and my turn here is almost over, I am preparing to return to the Valley, soon. I don´t need to say that I am never allowed to travel with the ambassadors, do I?” There was a subliminal snarl in his voice and he stared at the label of the wine.   
Yrdenne did not know what to say. He sold himself to Dol Blathanna – to give the Scoia´tael the safe home he had promised them all those years. Instead, she laid her hand on his knee. She wanted him to know that he was not alone.  
Iorveth met her gaze and Yrdenne’s heartrate increased.   
“What is your story?” he asked.   
“I told you how Roche asked me to become court physician of Vizima… The past five years I did nothing else,” Yrdenne took the wine from Iorveth and drank from the bottle  
“Why did you leave then?”  
Yrdenne hesitated. Dol Blathanna was the reason she left – or the illness they supposedly brought to Mahakam and Redania. She wondered what Iorveth knew about the illness, how he was involved… but she could not sell Mahakam out. Her aim was to find a cure – not to collaborate with the elves. Not being able to tell Iorveth the truth was gut-twisting.  
“Moira and I were on the way to Oxenfurt with her husband and his cousin. We… she wanted to visit her family.” She felt bad for the lie, but it was the only idea she could come up with. “A day or two from here, we met Cjardeth and a group of non-human refugees from Novigrad.” Briefly, she explained what happened afterwards, but kept Cjadreth’s plans to go to Brokilon secret. For some reason, she was unsure if it was good to tell Iorveth were she was going.  
“That was utterly dumb of Cjardeth,” Iorveth shook his head. “It was a suicide command. If he wasn´t dead, I would tell him my two cents about risking your life like that.”  
“I chose to go with him. And I wouldn´t be here without him. I don´t even know if the others made it, maybe I am the only survivor of our group.” It was the first time Yrdenne realized, that she did not know what happened to Moira, Ennis, Irma and Mo. Or Mirhanwen. She felt a heavy lump in her stomach.  
“Iorveth,” Yrdenne inhaled, “Among the refugees were two Scoia´tael from your unit. One of them was Mirhanwen.”  
Iorveth’s throat bobbed. “And?”  
“We… talked about you. She, Eardreth and others went to search for you. But they got separated and she has never seen anyone of them again.” Nervously, Yrdenne begun to pick at the label of the wine, so she decided to hand the bottle back to Iorveth. “I see that Idris made it. What about the rest of them?”  
“Hmmm.” Iorveth was pondering over something, Yrdenne could see it in his face. His fingers traced the writing on the wine label. “Yes, Idris found me. But it´s his story, I am sure he wants to tell himself. I haven´t seen Eardreth since Novigrad.”  
“I am sorry to hear that, I was hoping he found you.”  
“Me, too,” Iorveth replied, and then he gulped down the rest of the wine.   
Never before, Yrdenne had seen Iorveth so utterly vulnerable. She took the empty wine bottle off his hands and laid it somewhere on the bed, slid closer to him and took his hand in hers. Softly, she ran her index over every of his fingers, from the knuckle to the nail. With the tip of her finger, started to draw lines and circles on the back of his hand, for the simple reason to touch him.  
Iorveth let it happened and said no word. He stared at the pattern on the sheets.  
Not knowing what to say, Yrdenne took a heart and cupped Iorveth’s face with her hands, gently she forced him to look at her.   
“Iorveth, I…” she did not know what to say. Instead, she leant forward, slowly and hesitating, her eyes grazed his lips. When her face were only inches from his, Iorveth turned his head away.  
“Don’t.”  
Puzzled, Yrdenne let go of him.  
“I am sorry. I just wanted–” “What?”, he asked harshly, “Do you want to kiss me, fuck me and sneak away when you get tired of me, like in Novigrad?” He bared his teeth and his eye narrowed to a slit.  
“That´s not true, Iorveth,” Yrdenne was taken aback. This hostility was the least thing she expected from Iorveth. She stared at him with wide eyes.  
“Is it?” he snarled back. “It´s not like you came here for me.”  
“I was searching for you for five years!”  
“From the nicely furbished chamber in the palace of Vizima, I see.” Iorveth’s voice was a snarl, but Yrdenne noticed that his tongue was heavy. She tried to convince herself that it was the wine that spoke, not Iorveth.  
“Maybe I should leave,” she decided and stood up.   
“Don´t forget your bag, so you don´t have to bother me for that when you want to sneak off.”  
Open mouthed, Yrdenne stared at Iorveth. Bother him? Earlier that day, he didn´t seem to be particularly bothered by her presence.  
“I will leave tomorrow. I will not bother you again. Ever,” she replied and turned around. To hide her trembling fingers, Yrdenne clenched her fists so hard that her nails dug into her skin. Her heart was running wild in her chest and she was convinced she could hear the blood rushing though her veins.  
When she almost reached the curtain, she heard the rustling of sheets behind her. She risked a glance over her shoulder and saw how Iorveth hurried to get up. Maybe he realized that he would indeed never see her again if she left this tent.  
Iorveth half jumped, half crawled off the bed and hit the empty wine bottle. It fell off the mattress and shattered into thousands pieces. Somehow he managed to entangle his leg in the sheets, stumbled and fell to the ground, right into the shards. Down on all four, Iorveth looked up to Yrdenne and raised a hand to hold her back. Blood ran down his palm and wrist from a cut.  
“Wait!” His voice was a whisper.  
Yrdenne shook her head.  
“Iorveth, you are pathetic.”   
With that, she left. On the way out, she managed to grab her and Cjardeth’s bags, but as soon as she was out, tears started streaming down her face. She did not hear what the red-haired sentinel asked her. She did not notice the strange looks of the warriors she passed. She did not care.  
The tears blurred her sight, and relieved, Yrdenne gasped for air when she reached Dwynwen’s cave-house. 

What in all gods names happened to Iorveth? What happened in the few hours between their meeting in the baths and now? The more Yrdenne thought about it, the angrier she became. What was he even thinking?!  
Briefly after she knocked at the door, Dwynwen opened her. The elf frowned when she noticed Yrdenne’s condition.  
“What happened, my dear? Did you run into Cadfael?” Dwynwen asked calmly.  
Yrdenne shook her head.  
“No. I bothered Iorveth.”  
Dwynwen raised her eyebrows, but said nothing. She stepped aside and let Yrdenne in.  
“Thank you,” mumbled Yrdenne and wiped the tears off her face.  
“Do you want to come in and have a chat with me?” An understanding and welcoming smile spread on Dwynwen’s face and she pointed at the kitchen.   
Yrdenne hesitated. Dwynwen was so kind and caring, but Yrdenne knew nothing about her. Especially not how close the Aen Saevherne was with Iorveth.  
“That is really kind of you, but I´d rather be alone.”  
“Sure thing, my dear,” Dwynwen nodded still smiling, “Shall I bring you a hot milk or herbal infusion to your room?”  
Yrdenne shook her head, again.   
“I am fine, thanks.”  
By all means, she was not fine and she already felt how she was tearing up again, so she hurried down the hallway. Just before she reached the door to the spiral corridor, she turned around. Dwynwen was just about to enter the kitchen, but she stopped when she noticed Yrdenne wanted to say something.  
Yrdenne felt miserable, but her decision was made.  
“Dwynwen, I am very thankful for everything you did for me. I want to let you know that I really appreciate that and it was a pleasure to meet you. But unfortunately, I have to leave very early tomorrow Morning.”  
The smile on Dwynwen’s face faded.  
“I see that this place did not treat you well. I hope you find what you are searching for, wherever your path will lead you.”  
“Thank you, Dwynwen.”

When Yrdenne reached her room, she slumped down on the bed in the instant the door fell shut behind her. With shaking hands, she got rid of her boots and curled up on top of the blanket. She cried until she fell asleep, pondering what she could have said or done to cause Iorveth to be so cruel.  
In the night, Yrdenne was haunted by nightmares made of fire and smoke. She ran through burning buildings, sometimes the manor of her family, sometimes the Temple of the Eternal Fire, and whenever she was close to the exit, someone slammed the door shut. A few times, she woke up soaked in cold sweat.   
It was still before sunrise, when she decided that staying at this dreadful place any longer made no sense. She took the elvish clothes off and dressed in her own, that lay neatly folded on the dressing table. For a moment she thought of going through her bag to see if everything was still where it was supposed to be. There was not much she could do if something was missing, so she went with it. Frustrated, she realized that she had no weapons, and neither she remembered if she had seen them in Iorveth’s tent or nor was she motivated to go and ask for them. She cursed Iorveth for whatever had driven him into this wrath.  
Once she was out of the cave-house, Yrdenne inhaled the crisp morning air. The camp was still sleeping, so she was optimistic she no one would hold her back.  
With her knapsack on the back and Cjardeth’s bag over her shoulder she crossed the parade ground, risking one last gaze at Iorveth’s tent. She wondered if he was still sleeping, and if someone took care of his cuts. She wondered if he cared that they would part like this.  
When she reached the tents of the other warriors, Yrdenne held her breath for a moment. There was an army of elves between her and the gate, and she did not even know where exactly the gate was. But she was no captive anymore, so she squared her back and continued her way.  
Yrdenne made it a stone throw into the city of tents before someone noticed her. The canvas of the tent next to her and a sleepy blond head popped out and squinted at her.  
“Yrdenne, what are you doing?”, mumbled Idris when he recognized her.  
“Oh… good morning, Idris,” Yrdenne replied with a hushed voice. “I am leaving.”  
Surprised, Idris tore his eyes wide open.   
“You are what?! Why? What happened? Does Iorveth know?” With every question he crawled further out of the tent and stood up.  
Hearing Iorveth’s name hurt, but seeing the messy hair and sleepy eyes of Idris made Yrdenne chuckle. So much about the grace of the Aen Seidhe.  
“Iorveth does not want me to be here. He told me to leave.” Even though she tried, Yrdenne failed to expel the bitterness from her voice.  
Idris frowned and laid a hand on her shoulder.  
“Did he use those words? Maybe it´s a misunderstanding. I was there in Novigrad, I know that you two–” “Idris, he was very clear and, on top of that, very insulting. And, when I left him yesterday, he kneeled in the remains of a shattered wine bottle.” Yrdenne huffed.  
Sighing, Idris shook his head.  
“I get the feeling he drinks way too much lately. He is really tensed, lately. He already was before you showed up. The current situation is difficult for him, you know. I don´t want to excuse his behaviour, but seeing you again was probably the last straw.”  
Now Yrdenne frowned, nervously, she started to pick at the seam of her jacket.  
“What do you mean?”  
“Didn´t he tell you?” Idris cocked his head.  
“Tell me what?”  
Yrdenne could not remember when someone had looked at her with so much pity. Idris tightened the grip of his hand on her shoulder.  
“Iorveth is desperate to return to Dol Blathanna, because his woman is pregnant and expected to give birth soon. Of course, Iorveth wants to be back home when the child is born. His term here in the camp is over for more than two weeks, but the relief did not arrive yet, so he can´t leave.”  
Every single word was a punch in Yrdenne’s face.  
Iorveth had a woman. And she was pregnant. He would be a father. He wanted to be back home.  
“I… did not… know that,” Yrdenne voice cracked. Her right hand reached for her left wrist and her fingernails dug deep into her skin. But it did not work. The pain in her arm could not distract her from the pain of her breaking heart.   
Frantically, she tried to not fall apart in front of Idris eyes, even though she could barely breath.   
“Oh dear, what did I do…” muttered Idris and drew her into his arms. “I should have kept my mouth shut.”  
“It´s all right,” whispered Yrdenne, “Now I know. Can you show me how to get out of here?” Everything around her was blurring into a whirl of colours, she was sure she would not find out of the camp. Not when she felt so shattered.  
“I am so sorry…” Idris loosened the embrace and put his hands on her shoulders. “Of course I show you the way.” And then, a crocked grin appeared on his face. “And I will give you one of the horses, so you can bring some distance between you and this dreadful place.”   
Yrdenne’s face lit up when she realized what Idris offer meant. A horse!  
“You are authorized to give me a horse?”  
“Probably not,” Idris laughed out, “But Iorveth messed this up himself.”

Half an hour later, Yrdenne left the camp on the back of a brown gelding. She did not bother to think if Idris could get in trouble for that, because he had been so happy to help her one last time. The elf even got her a bedroll and a cloak, and some provisions. For sure, Iorveth would not be happy about that, but Yrdenne did not care.

***

Dwynwen looked up from her book an instant before it knocked at her door. She sat in her little library next to the kitchen. He was much later than she anticipated.   
Quickly, she got up from the wingback chair und hurried to the door. When she opened it, Iorveth almost fell inside. He looked awful. He didn´t wear the bandage to cover his eye and his hair was messy. Instead, a bloodstained cloth was wrapped around his hand. His hair was messy and unkempt and he smelled like the only shower he had in a while was with wine.  
“Good Morning, Dwynwen. Can I see Yrdenne?” Iorveth asked out of breath.  
Dwynwen knitted her brow.  
“I am sorry to say this, but she left very early.”  
“What do you mean, she left?” Iorveth stared at the female with wide eyes.  
“When she returned from your tent, she was very upset and told me she had to leave because she bothered you,” Dwynwen said and sighed, “I heard her very early this Morning, her room is empty. She is already gone.”  
Puzzled, Iorveth first stared at his bandaged hand, and then he met Dwynwen’s gaze again.  
“What did she mean with she bothered me?”  
“Iorveth, I do not know. She refused to talk with me. What did you say to her?” Dwynwen cocked her head and cupped Iorveth injured hand with hers.  
Iorveth shook his head.  
“I don´t know. I don´t remember last night. I remember that I read a… concerning document when she came, and that I wanted to talk to her about it. I remember that we sat down and I felt uneasy and dizzy. And then, my memories fade to black.”


	14. Reaching Brokilon

On the first day of her journey to Brokilon, Yrdenne would often glance over her shoulder to see if someone followed her. Even though it would take her at least one day longer, Yrdenne decided to turn Southern first, to avoid the North and the men of the Purple Lantern, and then went Western towards the huge forest. Whenever other people crossed her path, she watched them cautiously. But the further she rode, the lighter became her chest.   
The bottomless sadness that clenched her heart stayed, but she could finally breath. At least she knew Iorveth was alive, she told herself. At least he was alive, and well and even though the situation was difficult, he had found peace. Otherwise, she could not explain a wife and a child.  
Finding her way to Brokilon was surprisingly easy and uneventful.   
In the evening of the second day, Yrdenne noticed a dark line at the Western horizon. The closer she came, she thicker became the line, and it took Yrdenne some time to realize that what she saw were trees. It was the endless edge of Brokilon, the largest, deepest, oldest, and most dangerous forest in the Northern Realms. 

Yrdenne made it to the tree line at noon of the following day. She stopped the horse some hundred meters away. The trees were dark and menacing and the huge stems loomed into the air like the walls of a stronghold.   
“So, that´s the Brokilon,” Yrdenne said loudly. The horse neighed softly.   
“Really?” replied Yrdenne and patted his shoulder, “Then we should stop wasting time.” She clicked her tongue and spurred the horse. Hesitating, the gelding started to slowly move forward.   
Even though it was a sunny summer day, everything around Yrdenne was dead silent. Cautiously, she scanned her surroundings and was surprised she did not see a single bird or bee. But she spotted weapons in the high grass, hastily thrown away by their owners, or maybe with their owners. When she was little more than a stone throw away from the forest edge, an arrow bored into the soil right in front of her. Fortunately, the brown gelding was a war horse and stayed calm, but stopped immediately. Yrdenne’s eyes narrowed to slits and she scanned the forest line.  
She held her breath when, one after another, six fierce-looking women stepped out of the shadows. They were naked, except of loincloths, daggers strapped to their thighs, and necklaces of wooden pearls and feathers. Their skin was painted with leaf-patterns in white and green. Dryads.  
Yrdenne was marvelled by their looks. Four of them had greenish skin, but each in a different tone from the light green of young leaves over pale olive green to the dark blueish green of pine trees. Two of them wore their long green hair in small braids, the pine tree dryad had short greenish-black hair with both sides of her head shaved, and the fourth had soft brown hair that lay on her shoulders in spiralling curls. The fifth dryad had a more human skin tone, like Yrdenne, and a thick marron braid fell on her chest. Yrdenne mused that she was born to human parents and later turned into a dryad by drinking the Waters of Brokilon. All of them carried impressive longbows and arrow-filled quivers. All of them looked like the dryads on the images Yrdenne had seen in books. Except of the sixth dryad, who was so breathtakingly beautiful that Yrdenne could not stop staring at her. The woman reminded Yrdenne of the people from the Southern continents, only with pointed ears.  
Her skin was of a rich dark brown, like walnut wood, and her hair was almost black. It was not more than an inch long and framed her face in tiny curls. The dryad cocked her head and stared back at Yrdenne with her big dark eyes. She seemed to notice Yrdenne’s fascination, and her broad nose crinkled when her full lips curled into a sinister smirk.   
“What do you want on our lands, dh’oine?” asked the pine-tree dryad loudly and nocked another arrow to her bow. “And why are you riding a horse of our sisters and brothers from Dol Blathanna?”  
At first Yrdenne wondered how the dryad could know the origin of the horse, but then she remembered the embroidery on the saddle-cloth. Maybe had not been the best idea to take one of their horses. Strained, Yrdenne’s fingers clawed at the reins.  
“I am here to ask for aid in the name of the dwarves of Mahakam,” Yrdenne begun. Two of the dryads immediately frowned when they heard the name of the mountain realm. “My friend Cjardeth, Aen Saevherne and, once, a welcomed guest in Brokilon, sent me here, because he thought the wisdom and the knowledge of Brokilon were the only thing that could help us.”  
“Why would the dwarves send a dh’oine to speak in their name? And who is this Cjardeth, do you have proof for your words? Why didn´t he come in person?” the pine-tree dryad snarled and made a step forward. Her sisters on her left and right nocked arrows to their bows, too.  
Fear rose in Yrdenne’s guts. What if they did not believe her? It was the dark brown dryad that saved her neck.  
“Did your friend mention any of our sisters in particular? Or did he give you a token to prove your words?” she asked friendly. The pin-tree dryad sent her sister a warning glare. But Yrdenne smiled and nodded thankfully, thanks to the dark dryad she remembered Cjardeth’s pendant.  
“Yes! I almost forgot…” Yrdenne pulled the necklace over her head and held it up, so the dryads could see it. “He told me to speak to Aglaïs and gave me this. We started our journey together, but we were attacked by cruel men who call themselves the Purple Lantern. My friend… died to defend me.” Yrdenne’s voice cracked.  
The pine-tree dryad whispered something in elder speech and handed her bow to one of her sisters. She knitted her brows and approached Yrdenne, one hand on the hilt of her dagger. Yrdenne’s heart was pounding in her chest, and her outstretched arm that held the pendant started trembling. What if Cjardeth gave her the wrong necklace? Or what if Aglaïs did not want to speak to her? A thousand questions circled through her mind, each scenario worse than the other.   
When the dryad reached them, the gelding neighed quietly and sniffed in her direction. A smile flitted across her face. An arm length away, she stopped and studied the necklace.  
“Indeed, a Brokilon jasper,” she mused, “and the horse trusts you, so it cannot be stolen. Otherwise, he would have thrown you off his back and made his way back to his owner.” Gently, the dryad came closer and patted the horses neck. “How did a dh’oine get her hands on a horse like this?”  
“I fought with the Scoia´tael against the Order of the Flaming Rose. I have… friends among the Dol Blathanna warriors.” Yrdenne swallowed. Was Iorveth still her friend? She tried to shake the thought off, because more important issues lay ahead. Now, she needed to speak to Aglaïs and, hopefully, the dryad would help her to find a cure for the illness. When that was done, she would return to Vizima, maybe go to Mahakam and Redania. And once the people of the Northern Realms did not have to fear the illness – or each other – anymore, she could think about Iorveth again.   
The Dryad raised her eyebrows.   
“You are no ordinary dh’oine, it seems. I am Kasi, daughter of Morènn. You are allowed to enter Brokilon, but to our conditions. The elders will decide if you can stay with us and speak to Aglaïs. You do what we tell you and speak only when you are asked.” With these words, Kasi took the reins from Yrdenne and lead the horse into the green depths of Brokilon. Relieved, Yrdenne tied the necklace to her neck and let the dryads guide her.

At first, Brokilon appeared to be like any other forest, but when Yrdenne turned around to catch a last glimpse of the wold outside the wood, she noticed that the trees at the forest line seemed to link their branches like arms, to form a barrier. Or a guard’s walkway, because two dryads with longbows stood high up on the branches and watched them. The deeper they walked into the forest, the more it changed. The trees became higher, older, ancient. While in the beginning Yrdenne thought the dryads just walked randomly between the trees, she noticed that a path appeared between moss covered stones and hip-high ferns. Tendrils with huge leaves twined around the stems and Yrdenne saw plants she had never seen before. And while the grassland outside the forest had been stripped from all living things, the forest itself was thriving. Small animals rustled through the underwood and a variety of birds sang their songs high up in the trees. Butterflies in shapes and colours Yrdenne had never seen before fluttered around as if they knew nothing would harm them inside this lush green realm.  
Eventually, Kasi let go of the reins and left it to the gelding to follow her. With two armed dryads walking ahead and four in her back, Yrdenne knew that Kasi was well aware she could not escape them anyway.  
After a while, the dark-skinned dryad with the tiny curls caught up and walked next to the horse. She looked up to Yrdenne with sparkling eyes.   
“I am Naisula, daughter of Rehema. What is your name, dh’oine?”  
“My name is Yrdenne,” Yrdenne replied, and when she realized that Naisula knitted her eyebrows she quickly added, “Daughter of Osane. Nice to meet you.”  
“Hello Yrdenne,” Naisula cocked her head, smiling again, “Did you travel far to get here? Are you from Mahakam?” Kasi sent them a warning glare, but Naisula acted like she did not notice.  
“I am from Vizima in Temeria, but my friends are from Mahakam. They asked me for help.” Even though it was the truth, the words felt utterly unreal. About two weeks ago, she woke up in Dalayer’s bed like so many mornings before. And now her whole life had changed, she rode through Brokilon on a Dol Blathanna war horse escorted by dryad sentinels.   
“You must be very wise, when they came all the way for you,” Naisula mused and her words made Yrdenne blush.   
“No, not at all! There were travelling anyway, and since I am the only healer they know outside of Mahakam, I was the first to ask.” She shrugged and scratched her head. “I took the chance and went with them, because I thought I could help. We wanted to go to Oxenfurt, because I know the medical Professors and many healers there, who for sure have more experience and knowledge than I do. Unfortunately, we never made it that far.”  
Yrdenne wondered where Moira and the others were, and if they made it back to Vizima alive.   
“The Aen Saevherne you mentioned did well sending you to Aglaïs. She is one of the most skilled healers among the dryads, only Eithné herself might outshine her. I am working hard to prove myself worthy to be her student one day,” Naisula said with pride and pointed at Yrdenne’s wrists. “If you want to, I can take care of your injuries later.”  
The wounds caused by the iron cuffs healed well after Dwynwen’s treatment, but after Yrdenne left the camp the healing slowed down. The crusts were itchy and when Yrdenne moved her hands too quickly, they would crack open and the wounds started bleeding again. And a throbbing pain in her left thigh reminded her that riding did not the best to her burn marks.   
“Thank you, I could need help cleaning and dressing my wrists,” Yrdenne bit her lip and stared at the mane of her horse, “And I have another injury that needs care.”  
Naisula’s smile faded a little and she laid her hand on Yrdenne’s leg.  
“I can sense your pain. I already sensed it when I first saw you,” the dryad admitted, “Your pain is not only of physical nature.” It was a statement, not a question.  
Yrdenne inhaled deeply before she answered. “No, the past days were very… exhausting.”  
Kasi, who had undoubtedly listened to their conversation, turned around and met Yrdenne’s gaze.  
“Through all the centuries, Brokilon was a refuge for women and girls in need. Even if your request for help and to meet Aglaïs will be declined, you may stay in the settlement to rest and recover.”  
Naisula nodded. “You can stay with me, if you want to. Until the hearing, and as long as you wish.”  
“Until the hearing?” Yrdenne had expected to meet the elders the same day.  
“Once we arrive in the settlement, I will send a messenger to inform the Elder council. You will only be taken for a hearing if they agree. The elders live in the Heart of Brokilon, where not many strangers were allowed to go,” Kasi explained, “As long as you are waiting, you will stay with one of the sentinels.”  
Yrdenne dropped her shoulders. Basically, she would be a prisoner again. Naisula nudged her leg again and smiled when Yrdenne looked at her.  
“You are free to roam the settlement and the nearer area of the forest, I will show you everything. And you are always free to leave, when you don´t want to wait anymore.”

After a while, Yrdenne realized that she underestimated the size of Brokilon. The way to the mentioned settlement took much longer than she anticipated. When they finally arrived, Yrdenne was awestruck by what the dryads called a settlement. She had imagined something like a village, with little wooden cabins around a square, with a fireplace in the middle and dryads sitting together, building arrows and braiding each other’s hair. The only element of her imagination that overlapped with reality was the square with a fireplace.  
With sparkling eyes, Yrdenne drew this first impression of a dryad village into her mind and soul. A cosy bonfire crackled in the middle of the square of soft, dark forest soil. Gigantic trees higher as the Tower of the Eternal Flame in Novigrad, and likely much older, were the pillars of a city in the trees. Spiralling stairs lead up into the trees with branches so wide that two people could comfortable walk next to each other. It took her a moment to realize that the stairways were not timbered but grown from root-like structures. Ropes with colourful lanterns made of huge blossoms and leaves spanned from branch to branch like shining pearls on a string and illuminated the scenery in a thousand different shades. Soft yellow light radiated from windows and open doorways in the huge stems, houses inside the trees. The air was filled with songs and laughter, and Yrdenne watched how a small orange-skinned dryad with full breasts and round hips followed two playing children that ran over the branches high above Yrdenne’s head as if they were on solid ground. These girls knew no fear of heights. The other dryads in the settlement glanced at Yrdenne, but they did not seem to care in particular. Knowing dryads only from books and tales, Yrdenne was surprised about the diversity of the dryads. Many books written by human men described them as nothing else than evil muscle-packed green elves, but that was far from reality. Most of the dryads were not taller than Yrdenne, and while some were slender and showed signs of elven heritage, others were small with soft and round bodies, their faces slightly coarser, but as beautiful as those of their sisters. The colours of their hair and skin were as varied as their shapes, from human skin tones like pale rose to brown to the mysterious plant like greens and reds and oranges.   
Looking at the fierce women with their bows and wild eyes, probably all dryads knew no fear.  
“This will be your home for the upcoming time,” Kasi said with a chuckle, “Ceit will bring your horse to a meadow, where he will be taken care of.” The dryad with pale skin and marron hair took the reins and offered Yrdenne a hand to dismount. Thankfully, Yrdenne took Ceit’s hand and got off the geldings back, her legs felt weak and wobbly. Naisula unbuckled the bedroll and Cjardeth’s bag from the saddle to carry them for Yrdenne. While Ceit led her horse away, Yrdenne continued to stare into the tree tops.   
“Do you… live somewhere up there, Naisula?”, she swallowed.  
The dryad laughed out loud. “No, I live in a tent nearby. I inherited it from my mother and somehow I can´t detach myself from it.” Naisula turned to Kasi. “I will take Yrdenne with me. Let us know when you get note from the council.” Kasi nodded and with a smile Naisula took Yrdenne’s hand in hers. “Come with me.”  
Still awestruck, Yrdenne followed Naisula’s lead. The dryad’s hand was warm and her skin soft.   
After a short walk between the trees, Naisula turned onto a small path, not more than a deer trail, that lead away from the settlement. The path meandered between trees and thick bushes towards a little clearing next to a pond with crystal clear water, fed by a little stream. Next to an old crooked willow tree stood a round tent made of patches from different fabrics. Instead of a tent pole, it was underpinned by a birch tree that grew out of the centre of the roof.   
“Welcome to my home”, Naisula smiled, “Sometimes the settlement can be very loud and crowded, so I prefer to live on my own. I can´t handle noises and busyness very well.” She dropped the bag next to the entrance and opened the bedroll right at the brink of the pond. “Have a seat. I will get us refreshments and treatment for your injuries. Maybe take your shirt off, so I can see your arms better.” With these words, she hurried into her tent.  
The noises and the silence of Brokilon embraced Yrdenne. Singing birds, the wind rustling in the trees, the bubbling water, but nothing else. She inhaled the fresh forest air, and the peace – and the safety – rushed through her lungs, spread into her blood, into her body. Safety. Throughout all the centuries, no army had ever crossed the borders of Brokilon. Yrdenne slumped down on the bedroll and started to untie the laces of her boots. Her fingers were weak and jittery, but eventually she managed to open the knots and free her feet. She got rid of her jacket and the shirt, as Naisula suggested, and after a moment she decided to take of her trousers, too. She still wore the silk underdress from Dwynwen, because it covered the marks on her thighs and protected her skin from the leather of her trousers.  
“Look at you!” Naisula’s head popped out of the tent, “You look almost like a dryad!”  
The blood rushed into Yrdenne’s cheeks and her lips curled into a chuckle. “If you say so….”  
“Oh, definitely!”  
With a calabash in one hand and a pouch made of of thin mash in the other, Naisula returned to Yrdenne and sat down next to her.   
“Here, this is an herbal infusion,” she handed Yrdenne the calabash, “The first rule you need to remember is to never drink from random springs or streams. Not all of them are filled with the Waters of Brokilon that turn girls and women into dryads, but many. And for a human it´s hard to tell which are safe. You are too old to be turned, but you will forget who you are, and who you were.”  
“Somehow that does not sound too bad…” Yrdenne mumbled and took a sip from the calabash.  
Naisula’s eyes widened and she took Yrdenne’s hand. “Don´t say that. Your past made you who you are. And you are perfectly fine as Yrdenne, the healer.”   
A brief laughter escaped Yrdenne’s lips. “I know a few people who don´t agree with that…” Iorveth, probably. Yrdenne brushed the thought away. “However, thank you for taking care of me. I hope I am not a burden to you.”  
Again, Naisula smile her broad and welcoming smile. “I am graced by your company. The days here in Brokilon can be surprisingly boring, you know. But let me see your wrists.”  
She reached for Yrdenne’s other hand, too and examined the injuries. “Iron cuffs. Someone badly wanted you to stay, hm?” Without turning her eyes from the wounds, Naisula reached for the pouch and pulled some long thick leaves out. They were sort of wobbly and Yrdenne had never seen anything like that before. Curiously, she watched how the dryad started to knead the leaves until they started to secrete a slimy yellowish liquid. Then, Naisula wrapped the leaves around Yrdenne’s wrists, one after another, and secured them with the laces from Yrdenne’s boots, mumbling “You won´t need those anyway.”  
As soon as the liquid covered the bloody crust of the wounds, Yrdenne felt how the itchiness faded away and a soothing cold numbness spread in her forearms.   
“Thank you,” carefully Yrdenne moved her wrists to see if everything stayed in place. The leaves stuck to her arms like a second skin.   
“You mentioned another injury. Shall I have a look?”   
For an instant, Yrdenne held her breath. She did not dare to show Iorveth the burn marks, but somehow she knew there was no need to be ashamed in front of Naisula.  
“Yes. I was… burnt. Branded,” she replied with a low voice.   
Naisula knitted her brow, “What do you mean, branded?”   
Wordless, Yrdenne pulled the dress up, so the dryad could see what she meant.  
“That was done to you… on purpose?” Naisula’s expression darkened. “I hope whoever did this will be punished by the fates.” The words clenched Yrdenne’s heart. Not by the fates, she thought, but by Iorveth. If he knew.   
As if she read Yrdenne’s thoughts, Naisula met her gaze and laid a hand on Yrdenne’s chest.   
“And that´s not the only way you were hurt. I see a shadow upon your soul.”  
“I think… Cjardeth wanted me to go here to find healing myself,” Yrdenne admitted, “I guess I am obviously broken.”  
“Then I will fix your skin, and afterwards your heart,” with a smirk, Naisula held up another of the wobble-leaves and winked. 

After she treated Yrdenne’s physical wounds, Naisula brought some food from her tent, and Yrdenne shared her remaining provisions. Eventually, Yrdenne began to settle. Naisula was different than Dwynwen, who had helped her because she simply helped those who were in need. Dwynwen was caring, but remained a stranger. Naisula treated Yrdenne like a friend, and cared for her for who she was, even though they just met. In the calm of Brokilon, Yrdenne embraced her life as it was and in Naisula’s company, she opened up.   
“Yrdenne… may I ask you something?” Naisula asked after they finished their supper.  
“Sure, go ahead,” Yrdenne nodded.  
Naisula cocked her head. “The branding… those three arrow heads… That´s the symbol of the Scoia´tael, isn´t it?”  
A night bird cried somewhere in the distance. Yrdenne stared into the darkening forest, to avoid Naisula’s gaze. “Yes, it is.”  
“Earlier, you said you fought with them. My father was a Scoia´tael, you know. His name is Coinneach Dà Reo,” Naisula cleared her throat, “I was told he did not survive the war. I was a youngling back then. Did you know him?”  
Surprised, Yrdenne turned her head and looked at the dryad.  
“No, I am sorry. I heard of him, but I never met him. Someone… someone I know was his friend.” Yrdenne’s throat bobbed, she remembered how Iorveth had told her from his days in the Drakenborg, and his cell mate.   
“I miss the days when the Scoia´tael would come and visit Brokilon. Many of them have children here, but Coinneach was the only one who cared. Sometimes, he would bring me a gift when he came. I think he really loved my mother and me,” Naisula sighed, “The Scoia´tael don´t come here anymore.”  
“Because the Scoia´tael don’t exist anymore,” replied Yrdenne, “The units fell apart after Nilfgaard’s victory.” After Iorveth abandoned them to serve Dol Blathanna. The truth left a bitter taste in her mouth. And something else caught her attention. “Do you… do you know the names of those who have daughters here?”  
A sheepish grin spread on Naisula’s face. “Do you think of someone in particular?”  
Yrdenne blushed. “Erm... maybe.”  
Naisula’s grin became wider. “Tell me.”  
“His name is Iorveth. He is… we were…” Yrdenne shrugged and shook her head. She lacked the words to explain.  
“I know Iorveth,” Naisula chuckled, “Indeed, he was a friend of father. Iorveth is a strong man and admired leader, at least he used to be back then. I remember that several of my sisters wanted to mate with him. As far as I know, he never agreed.”  
“Oh.” Yrdenne’s heartrate increased, at least, not another surprise. She wondered if there was a place in the Northern Realms where people, non-human or not, did not know him.  
“Now I am curious – how did you become a Scoia´tael? How did you meet Iorveth?” Naisula shifted a little closer, so her knee touched Yrdenne’s leg. When Yrdenne met her gaze, Naisula wiggled her eyebrows. Her eyes were glowing against her dark skin.  
Yrdenne gave in, she was unable to resist Naisula’s attempt to befriend her. She was unable to resist Naisula’s smile and kindness, and her sparkling eyes.  
“I met him for the first time, when I was five or six years old. He saved my life…” And then, it sputtered out of Yrdenne’s mouth – the whole story, from the old fox den to the night in the Camp. How she got him back in Novigrad, how she fell in love with him without knowing it, how he kissed her, how he bedded her, how she left him and how it broke her. How she found him again and lost him forever. “The truth is, I don´t think I will ever see him again and even if I do, I will never stand between a man and his family.”  
All the time it took to tell her story, Naisula sat quietly next to her and listened. When Yrdenne teared up, she held her hand, and even wiped the tears from her face. When Yrdenne laughed, Naisula laughed with her. And when she ended the story, Naisula laid her hand on Yrdenne’s chest once more and smiled.  
“It already feels lighter.”


	15. The Elder Council

Yrdenne expected darkness to fall upon Brokilon, after sunset. But instead, a myriad of stars reflected in the pond next to her and hundreds of fireflies in all colours of the rainbow illuminated the forest. The darker it became, the more glowing flowers started to bloom. Awestruck, Yrdenne watched the awakening of the night.  
“I did not know that the night can be so beautiful,” she said as she gazed at all the little lights.  
Naisula cocked her head and watched Yrdenne instead.  
“Yeah, I was thinking the same,” the dryad chuckled, “But I think we should go to sleep. It was a long day, and if you want to I can show you the archery range, tomorrow. I bet I can teach you things Iorveth did not show you back then.” Naisula winked at Yrdenne, who could not hide a hearty yawn.  
“That sounds like a very good idea,” Yrdenne chuckled and scratched the back of her head.  
She helped Naisula to bring everything into the tent, and when she finally lay in her bedroll, Naisula came and planted a brief kiss on her brow.  
“Sleep well, human sister.”

The dreams that came to Yrdenne in that night were utterly different than the dreams in Dwynwen’s cave. She dreamed of weaving colours and reflections in water, of people without faces smothered in black mist and she heard the cry of an infant in the distance. But eventually, all that was hushed by growing moss and trailing plants after a while, and all that stayed in her mind was lush green silence. It was a promise of Brokilon to keep everything away from her that haunted her. The cry of the child turned into the soft chirp of brides, rising into a choral of twittered songs.  
Yrdenne opened her eyes and the first thing she saw were tiny rays of morning light braking through holes in the canvas over her head. The entrance of the tent was open and Naisula was gone, but Yrdenne heard splashing water. Still tired, she crawled out of the bedroll and shuffled outside.  
As Yrdenne expected from the noises, Naisula was having a bath in the pond. The dryad had her back turned towards the tent, so that she did not notice Yrdenne and joyfully continued to splash water on her naked body to wash the white and green paint off her skin.  
Yrdenne noticed that some of the patterns stayed on Naisula’s back, and she realized that this was no paint, but a huge tattoo. The area left of her spine was adorned with bold black lines that curled and swirled into the shape of a huge rearing horse, right of her spine was a similar animal, slightly smaller and in a different shape, it looked like it was striped. It took Yrdenne a moment to stop staring at the mesmerizing artwork, adorned by sparkling droplets of water.  
“Good morning, Naisula,” she said a little louder than the needed to.  
With a radiant smile, Naisula turned around and waved.  
“Good morning, Yrdenne! Did you sleep well?”  
Yrdenne smiled back and nodded enthusiastically, the memory of her strange dreams was already fading. “Yes, until the birds woke me up.”  
“I am relieved to hear that! How are your wrists?” Naisula cocked her head and slightly knitted her brows. “You can take the leaves off if you want to. Have a bath and I will apply a new dressing afterwards.” To emphasise her suggestions, Naisula splashed some water in Yrdenne’s direction.  
“So far, everything feels good! I will have a look.”  
Carefully, Yrdenne removed the laces and the leaves from her wrists, and the bandage on her thigh and hip. The skin underneath was still red and scabby, but no comparison to the previous day. Baffled, Yrdenne stared at the almost healed wounds. Whatever those plants were, she wished she had had those in Novigrad.  
“Are you coming in now, or what?” Again, Naisula splashed with water.  
Quickly, Yrdenne peeled herself out of the silken underwear and stepped into the pond. The water was refreshing, but not cold, and felt soothing on her bruised leg.  
“You didn´t show me that one yesterday,” Naisula noted frowning and pointed at Yrdenne’s leg. “How did that happen?”  
“Some crocked spell blew me against a tree…” Yrdenne mumbled and waded deeper into the pond. “Nothing to fuss about.” Naisula raised an eyebrow and shook her head, but continued to wash herself.  
It was the second time within a few days that Yrdenne immersed herself into sacred waters to wash off not only the dirt of yesterday, but also pain and fear and words that were said to her. Eventually, she held her breath, closed her eyes, and entirely submerged to shut the world out. The water around her numbing and silence underneath the surface was seducing, for an instant, Yrdenne wished her life would stay like this. But Naisula came and took her hand to pull her back to the air and light.  
“As far as I know, humans don´t have gills. So better not stay too long down there,” she stated with wink.  
“I didn´t mean to,” Yrdenne replied, and closed her eyes while she inhaled the fresh and sweet air of the forest. “I just tried to wash everything away.” Naisula understood what she meant.

After the swim, Naisula gave Yrdenne a very short and sleeveless green dress made from plant fibres and got dressed in a similar one in an earthen orange. Dryads did not wear shoes, so Yrdenne did not bother to lace her boots again and left them where they were. Naisula insisted to brush and braid Yrdenne’s hair into a complex tress. While Naisula was busy with Yrdenne’s hair, Yrdenne looked at the different patterns of the tent canvas. She discovered a piece of fabric with animal shapes, and one of those was oddly similar to Naisula’s tattoos.  
“Naisula, may I ask you something?”  
“Sure, go ahead.” A pleasant shiver ran down Yrdenne’s spine, when Naisula’s fingers combed through her hair to part sections for the braid.  
“I saw the tattoos on your back… I recognized the horse. But what is the other animal?”  
Naisula froze and her hands sunk to Yrdenne’s shoulders.  
“That´s a zebra. These animals live in the homeland of my human ancestors.”  
“Your human ancestors? I thought your father was Aen Seidhe,” Yrdenne asked, with the next breath she quietly cursed herself for her curiosity. Slowly, Naisula continued to braid her hair.

“My grandmother came from a country on the Southern continent. She travelled to these lands as an ambassador, together with her husband. Despite being pregnant, she decided to go on this long and dangerous journey, because she believed her people would benefit of a good trade relationship to the Northern Realms. Somewhere in Temeria, they were attacked by footpads. It was a dirty ambush, aimed at the first poor souls who crossed their path that day. Those dirty swines killed everyone, except my grandmother. You can imagine what they wanted her for.” When Yrdenne noticed the bitterness in Naisula’s voice, she started to feel even worse for asking. Naisula inhaled deeply before she continued. “When they saw that she was pregnant, they tried to… kill the unborn. Beating up my grandmother was not enough. At night, they tied her to a tree, but they believed she was not strong enough to escape and did not watch over her. Underestimating her was the last mistake of these men. My grandmother was strong as a lioness and managed to free herself as soon as they fell asleep. She cut their throats and ran away, heavily injured. It´s a wonder that she made it all the way to Brokilon alive. Later, she would tell my mother that even though she did not know where she was nor where to go, the fates led her here.”

Yrdenne remembered how Kasi called Brokilon a refuge for women in need. And she, too, had felt an invisible force that drew her towards the forest, at least she thought so.  
“The dryads welcomed her and, when time had come, helped her to deliver her daughter – my mother. My grandmother experienced the cruelties of the world outside of Brokilon first hand, and she did not want her daughter to grow up in a hostile world led by vicious men. So she decided to stay, and to raise my mother as a dryad. They gave my mother the waters of Brokilon at a very young age, but my grandmother never failed to remind her where she came from, taught her the language and traditions of her homeland, far away on the Southern continent. And because grandmother never got used to the tree houses, she made this tent from fabric she could gather. Some of it from her own gown and cloak.” When Naisula finished the tress, she laid her warm and soft hands on Yrdenne’s shoulders again. “I never met my grandmother, she died of heartbreak and homesickness, the dryads say. But my mother passed her legacy. Unfortunately, she also shared her fate, because my mother died of a broken heart shortly after she heard about my father’s death. I was sixteen…”  
Yrdenne sensed how strained Naisula was and cupped Naisula’s hand with her own. The realization that the dryad and she had a similar past hit her hard. They shared the same scars and lost their parents in the same war – even though they had been on different sides and died through differend causes.  
“Anyway, when I was old enough I got these tattoos. The horse for my father, because he had a similar one on his back. And the zebra for my mother, and my grandmother. My family is a trinity of humans, elves and dryads from opposite corners of the world, and I wanted to wear that on my skin. Getting these images was part of my healing.”  
Yrdenne turned around and met Naisula’s gaze.  
“They are beautiful, and I understand why you got them. Thank you for sharing your story with me,” she said with a low voice and embraced her new friend. Her new sister. “I feel you.”  
“It was my turn, after you shared yours,” Naisula replied and smiled her radiant smile. “My past made me who I am.”  
Yrdenne inhaled these words and encapsulated them in her heart. And for the first time, she believed that she, too, could heal from what happened.  
“And now, my dear, we will have breakfast and I will show you the village, and if you want to, the archery range,” Naisula added with a grin.

At first, Yrdenne was shy and intimidated by the fierce dryads, but she learned quickly that, in fact, they were soft and loving women with an unbreakable trust in mother nature – and mother Brokilon. While many of them loved archery and practiced as often as they could, not all dryads served as sentinels like Naisula, Kasi and Ceit. They all chose duties that matched their skills and liking and each and every one of them served the greater good of the community in her own way. And the clothing of the dryads was not only restricted to loincloths. Indeed, many dryads preferred to walk with bare breasts, only dressed in skirts of thin fabric, or gracefully wrapped in foulards. The loincloths and the war-paint, however, were reserved for the warioresses.  
Naisula introduced her to every single woman in the village, and even though a few were reserved and slightly suspicious, most of them welcomed Yrdenne and showered her in kindness. The seamstress gave her some clothes and, when they visited the dryad who built the bows and arrows, Yrdenne was astonished that the woman gifted her the bow she liked the most, together with a matching set of arrows.  
After Yrdenne met everyone, Naisula took her took the archery range for the rest of the day. The more time she spent with the dryads, the more the sorrows from the world outside Brokilon vanished from Yrdenne’s mind.

At noon, on Yrdenne’s third day in Brokilon, Kasi found her and Naisula, while they took a break from archery practice. Yrdenne’s muscles were not used to the intense training, even though she learned quickly and improved fast, so she needed more breaks than Naisula. The dryad did her best to sooth Yrdenne’s pain with herbal infusions and a massage with ointment.  
“One could almost forget that you did not drank the waters yet, Yrdenne,” Kasi laughed when she saw the two friends sitting on the moss together. “I am sorry that I have to bother you, but the Elder council wants to hear you today.”  
It took Yrdenne a moment to process the information, she stared at Kasi with wide eyes.  
“What do you mean, today?”  
“I will take you to the Elder council, today. They will hear your proposal and decide if you receive help,” Kasi explained, “We have to hurry a little. Do you need anything from your belongings?”  
Like a gush of cold water, the real reason for her stay hit Yrdenne. How could she forget?  
“My mind is all I need, I am ready to go,” Yrdenne jumped up. “Will Naisula go with us?”  
Kasi shook her head. “Just you and me, this time.”  
An uneasy feeling spread in Yrdenne’s guts, but when Naisula stood up, too, and squeezed Yrdenne’s hand, it faded quickly.  
“Remember, you are perfect as you are. You are strong, and fierce, and bold. And no less than anyone here,” Naisula reminded her with a broad smile and sparkling eyes. “And when you return, I may have a surprise for you.”

Kasi took her deeper into the forest. Yrdenne was as marvelled as on her first day, she saw animals and trees she had never seen before. Already shortly after they left the settlement, their way lead across a little clearing with a single tree in the centre. It was not high, but had wide branchwood over and over covered in big, pale pink blossoms. In its crown sat a bird with feathers in all colours of the rainbow.  
Yrdenne wondered how many people who had been so deep in this forest had ever made it out again, to tell the world about it. But quickly, she understood that if the world outside knew about the wonders of Brokilon, the rulers of the Realms would throw their whole siege weaponry and every being that was able to hold a sword or pitchfork at its borders to conquer it.  
Kasi did not speak much. Every now and then she would point out a certain butterfly or bird, or a rare kind of trees. The rest of the time, she walked ahead in silence.  
Yrdenne watched her graceful movements, the play of her muscles in her legs and back. On the first view, Kasi, daughter of Morènn, was the archetype of the men-eating dryad. But yet she was loving and caring towards all of her sisters. Maybe that was the reason why she was so protective.  
“We are almost there,” Kasi said out of a sudden, “Remember what I told you: Do what you are told, and only speak when you are asked to.”  
Baffled, Yrdenne looked around. There was nothing but trees. No hint of a village, or settlement, or clearing. Nothing that indicated the presence of other people. With knitted brows, she followed Kasi around a huge tree.  
On the other side of the stem waited the Elders.  
Between the trees, four dryads sat on a huge, table like and moss-covered rock. One of them was tall and slender and dressed in a wide flowy gown. She had brown skin and did not look a day older than twenty years. Next to her said a white-haired, wrinkly, and green-skinned dryad that obviously descended from a dwarf, she was short with a rounded body clad in a leather dress. The third could be almost mistaken for a middle-aged brown-haired human woman, if it was not for the extra-long pointed ears and the flower tattoo that grew from her navel to her chest. And the fourth was small and delicate, with yellowish freckled skin that reminded Yrdenne of a young birch tree. She had big, brown eyes and wore the typical loincloth and paintings of the sentinels. The scenery looked so random that Yrdenne almost laughed out loud. A deer was nibbling at ferns a stone throw away, and the dryads sat in a circle and were vividly chatting about something.  
They fell silent in the instant they noticed Kasi and Yrdenne.  
Kasi slightly bowed her head, and so did Yrdenne.  
“Kasi, daughter of Morènn, daughter of Eithné. Is this the dh’oine that demands help from Brokilon?” the brown-skinned dryad asked with a bell-like voice. Yrdenne’s heart started pounding heavily in her chest. It was now or never. If she failed here, all that was left to do was going home.  
Kasi squared her back.  
“Elder Senga, I am honoured to speak to the council,” Kasi begun, “A few days ago, our seeress Albruna saw a woman on a horse in the waters. The day after, Yrdenne, daughter of Osane, reached our borders on the back of a Dol Blathanna war horse. She came as an ambassador of Mahakam, to request help.”  
Yrdenne fought the urge to raise her brows at Kasi. No one had mentioned a seeress to her.  
Senga and the other Elders nodded, then they turned to Yrdenne.  
“Yrdenne, daughter of Osane, you are allowed to speak. Who are you, and what are your demands?”  
With trembling hands, Yrdenne inhaled deeply and squared her back.  
“Thank you for hearing me, Elder Senga–” Yrdenne blinked, because she did not know if and how she should address the other Elders. She decided to skip that part, “I am the court healer of Vizima, and about two weeks ago my friends from Mahakam reached out for me, because a terrible illness spreads under the mountain, and already claimed many victims. We left Vizima to search for a cure and learned that the very same illness is raging in Redania, too.” As briefly as possible, Yrdenne retold their journey, how they met Cjardeth and how he sent her to Brokilon. To prove her words, she raised the necklace again.  
“Before he died, my friend Cjardeth gave me this as a token, hoping it would support my words and allow me to request help and guidance from his friend Aglaïs.”  
The dryad with the long pointed ears raised her eyebrows and spoke:  
“I know Cjardeth. Many decades ago, he was a well-known guest in Brokilon. He was a great healer was indeed a close friend of Aglaïs. The news of his death deeply grieves us. Why do you think Aglaïs can help you with something he could not defeat and she has never seen?”  
Yrdenne’s mind was overflowing. Because you are dryads! She wanted to scream. But she didn´t. Instead, she forced herself to stay calm and run her mind through the things Cjardeth had told her. And she remembered.  
“Cjardeth mentioned an observation he made. He saw a black aura on the persons who caught the sickness. If it got darker, they most likely died. But if the aura started to fade, the people recovered. And he noticed that those who trusted in the treatment and their caregivers recovered better. Those without hope died faster.” A cold shiver ran down Yrdenne’s spine and she had Goosebumps all over her body. “I think, Cjardeth suspected the illness had a magical component.”  
The Elders exchanged worried and knowing glances. Yrdenne clenched her jaws.  
“If you don´t help us, we are doomed. Most mages were expelled or killed during the war, there is no one left to ask.”  
Lowly, Kasi hissed at Yrdenne, but fell silent when the green-skinned Elder glared at her.  
“We understand your concern,” the dryad with the long pointed ears said and folded her hands in front of her stomach, “Indeed, an illness like that can eradicate whole populations. And if it is of magical origin, as you suggest, it is impossible to acquire immunity. But we are safe here, in Brokilon. It will not reach us. So why should we help the humans to survive? Mother nature is groaning with every tree they fell and every log they burn. With every animal they kill and every river they pollute.”  
“It doesn´t affect only humans! The dwarves in Mahakam are dying, and the non-humans in Novigrad and Oxenfurt,” Yrdenne blurted and clenched her fists. Her heart was in her mouth. “The humans blame the non-humans, so those face oppression and hatred again. Many of the victims are innocent women and children. They deserve to live!”  
Bewildered, Kasi’s gaze flitted from Yrdenne to the Elders, her hand was at the hilt of her dagger and she bore her teeth. Yrdenne assumed if she were armed, she would be dead by now.  
“Many deserve to live, and others deserve to die. We don´t make those decisions. We cannot judge humankind from here,” Senga spoke. Aghast, Yrdenne opened her mouth to reply, but Senga raised her hand. “We can, however, judge you. If you prove yourself worthy to learn from Aglaïs, we allow you to discuss the issue with her.”  
“The hearing is over,” added the small birch-tree dryad with a deep voice.  
“But–” Yrdenne made a step forward. This time, Kasi held her back.  
“The hearing is over,” repeated the green-skinned dryad. With that, the four Elders turned stood up and turned away from Yrdenne. Kasi grabbed her shoulders and dragged Yrdenne away.

“Are you insane? To speak to them in that tone?”, snarled Kasi when they were out of hearing range. “They are the Elders. Their word is our law – only Eithné can repeal their decisions.”  
“But they have to help us!” Yrdenne half-cried. She ripped herself free from Kasi’s grip. The dryad bared her teeth at Yrdenne – until she noticed that Yrdenne had tears in her eyes.  
“People are dying, Kasi,” Yrdenne whispered, and Kasi’s expression softened.  
“Then we will show them that you are worthy,” she replied and shrugged her shoulders. “Let’s go home.”  
Wide-eyed, Yrdenne followed Kasi with her gaze. This dryad was hard-nosed. For an instant, Yrdenne pondered if she should go back to the Council to tell them what she thought of them, but then she followed Kasi with hanging shoulders.

It was after nightfall, when Yrdenne returned to Naisula’s tent. The dryad was nowhere to be seen, so Yrdenne went inside and crawled into her sleeping bag. It was the first night in Brokilon she had problems to fall asleep. How, in all gods names, should prove to be worthy to talk to Aglaïs? She was too old to become a dryad – hell, she did not want to become a dryad!  
It felt like hours passed until Naisula returned.  
Wordless, the dryad crawled to Yrdenne, lay down next to her and wrapped her arm around Yrdenne.  
“Kasi told me everything. It´s all right, it will work out,” Naisula whispered and snuggled against Yrdenne. “We are with you, and I know you are worthy. I saw it in the water.”

The next morning, Yrdenne wanted to proceeded like the days before, simply because she did not know what else to do. When she woke up, she snuck out of the tent, carefully trying not to wake Naisula, to take a swim in the pond. The air was already warm from the sunrays that made their way through the leaves and the bees were busy pollinating the blossoms. Midsommar was near. As every day, Yrdenne immersed entirely and stayed under water for a few instants. The first thing she saw after she cut the surface, was Naisula, waiting for her with a radiant smile and a towel.  
“How do you feel?” she asked and wrapped Yrdenne into the towel.  
Yrdenne sighed. “Surprisingly fine,” she admitted, “But I am not sure how to prove my worth to the Elders.”  
“Just be who you are, and they will see.” Naisula handed Yrdenne the green dress. “How are your wounds? Do you need ointment?”  
Yrdenne looked at the pink scars on her wrists. The skin was young and still thin, but the scab was gone. “I think it´s all right.” Then, she unwrapped herself from the towel and examined her thigh. The burnt skin was still warm and angrily red. “You know, I never was a Scoia´tael, but I sort of like the symbol of three arrows. It reminds me of what I bore up against. I just wish I had gotten them by choice.”  
“Hmm… You remember that I promised you a surprise?” Naisula chuckled, “Kyla came for a visit. She lives in another village, but likes to travel from time to time. She is the artist who did my tattoos. I thought you might like to meet her.”  
Yrdenne’s eyes widened.  
“Wait – do you mean…” – “Only if you want to!”  
Yrdenne bit her lip. “You mean, I could get arrows on my skin?”  
“Where you want, and how you want them. But it will hurt.”  
“A lot?” Yrdenne asked and pulled the dress over her head.  
Naisula picked a petal off the fabric and grinned.  
“I assume you have been through worse. And I can take care of those–” she pointed at Yrdenne’s thigh, “so they will vanish over time. At least, almost.”  
Yrdenne’s eyes started to sparkle. “Sounds like a plan!”

A few hours later, Yrdenne sat at the brink of the pond, her legs dangling in the water, and Naisula sat next to her, kneading some of the wobbly leaves.  
“Once you cured the illness, you have to go to Doll Blathanna to rub these into the face of the turnip who burnt you,” Naisula chuckled. “They are beautiful.”  
Yrdenne peeked at the new tattoo on her left upper arm. Three crossed arrows framed by two twigs adorned her skin, where Varnhelm’s flail had shattered her bones and Cjardeth had stitched her back together. The scars vanished between the bold lines of the tattoo and became almost invisible.  
“Yes, they are,” Yrdenne replied, and her lips curled into a smile, “and they are mine.”  
And they would remind her how she fought in Novigrad, how she worked in the sickbay day and night, and how she went through ashes and flames to end Varnhelm. And to save Iorveth, because she had loved him more than her own life – and a part of her still loved him. The thought of him raised a storm of butterflies in her chest, and the bitter reality clenched her chest.  
Iorveth was unreachable for her.  
“Accepting the pain and remembering how it felt is the next step of healing,” Naisula said gently and applied the moist and juicy leaves to the tattoo. “You can only treat a wound when you know where it is.”  
Yrdenne poked Naisula’s waist. “You never run out of wise phrases, do you?”  
“No, never. I am a dryad. We are raised like that,” Naisula stuck out her tongue. “And tomorrow, you will start serving Brokilon as a sentinel with me.”


	16. Under Attack

The day was warm and sunny, a typical early summer day in Brokilon. Because Yrdenne was exhausted and felt feverish from getting the tattoo, she spent the rest of the day sitting in the shadow of tree by the pond with her thick leather-bound book full of notes about herbs and remedies and various disorders. She sketched the strange leaves Naisula used to heal her skin and scribbled down what she knew. Naisula lay next to her and knotted a necklace with wooden beads.   
In the evening, thunder rolled in the distance as a harbinger of a rising storm, so Yrdenne decided to stay in the tent and go to bed early. 

It was past midnight when Yrdenne woke up, because she felt a stabbing pain in her lower stomach. At first she thought the ache was the result of a bad dream, but it stayed and the intensity increased. Gasping for air, Yrdenne curled up and tried to breath the pain away, but in vain. The pain got so bad, that she moaned out through her clenched teeth.  
In a heartbeat, Naisula was awake and by her side.  
“Yrdenne, what´s wrong?” she whispered and laid a hand on Yrdenne’s brow. “It´s not the fever, your head feels normal.”  
“I… don´t… know,” Yrdenne pressed and squinted her eyes, “My stomach…”  
“May I touch you?” Naisula asked, her voice still low. In the darkness of the night, Yrdenne could not see her face, but never before the dryad had sounded so worried.  
“Y-yes…”  
Quickly, Naisula wrapped Yrdenne out of her bedroll and slid her hand under the silken nightgown. Yrdenne sighed, because the cool hand felt soothing on her skin. Carefully, Naisula palpated Yrdenne’s stomach about the navel, then her right side and finally her lower belly.   
There, she stopped.  
“Yrdenne…” Naisula gasped, but did not finish what she wanted to say. She laid her hand still on Yrdenne’s body and adapted to the rhythm of Yrdenne’s breath.   
“Yrdenne, you told me that you have been with a man, in Vizima,” Naisula begun, but hesitated. “Have… have you taken any measures to avoid a… pregnancy?”  
Yrdenne moaned, when another wave of pain hit her.  
“Yes… I took a mix of herbs… to stop my cycle,” she gasped.  
“For how long?” The concerned tone in Naisula’s voice rose a dark misgiving in Yrdenne’s mind.  
“Don´t know… about four years… maybe,” Yrdenne took a deep breath, “But I stopped… when I left Vizima.”  
Naisula started to mumble verses in a strange language and moved her hand on Yrdenne’s stomach in small circles. Slowly, the pain got better and Yrdenne relaxed a little.  
“You poisoned your womb,” whispered Naisula after she finished her spell, her voice was hoarse. “Four years is a very long time for those kind of… medications, Yrdenne.” There was no need to continue with the explanation. Yrdenne knew what Naisula was going to say. Yrdenne knew the risk of those herbs. Naisula continued anyway. “You might never be able to conceive a child. I am so sorry.”  
Yrdenne did not reply. Suddenly, her throat felt dry and sore. She had taken these gods damned herbs, because, under no circumstances, she wanted a child with Dalayer. Under no circumstances, she wanted to be bound to a family if there was a chance Iorveth returned to her. How utterly wrong she had been.  
Yrdenne was unable to cry.  
“Yrdenne?” Naisula nudged her arm, expecting an answer.  
But what should she reply? That she did not care, because the only man she had ever imagined starting a family with, already had his own family? That she did not expect her life to calm down in the future, that she had no place to settle down anyway?  
“Please, say something. Anything,” Naisula gently stroked Yrdenne’s head.  
“I am all right,” Yrdenne sighed, “Can you do more about the pain?” Her shaking hands cupped Naisula’s hand on her belly.  
“Sure, I´ll be back in an instant.”  
Naisula hurried to the little stove in the middle of the tent. It was a relic from her grandmother and Yrdenne had never seen Naisula use it before. Light-handed, Naisula lit some tinder and shoved it into the firebox with two small logs of wood. While the fire rose and a dim orange light lit the tent, she got a kettle from her storage chest, filled it with water from a calabash and threw some ingredients in it, presumably, some medical herbs.  
Shortly after Naisula placed the kettle on the stove, a sharp herbal scent waved through the air. The infusion simmered for a while and Naisula sat at Yrdenne’s side and gently ran her fingers through Yrdenne’s hair.  
“I make a potion that will quench the pain and help you to fall asleep. You might have bleedings the next days, and I will give you a more targeted medication tomorrow,” Naisula begun to explain with a hushed voice, “We don´t need to discuss that now, but you have two options. One will stop the symptoms entirely; you will be back on track in no time. The other treatment takes time and might be painful, but there is a chance to restore your… fertility.”  
Yrdenne took a few breaths before she answered. “I’ll take quick one.” There was no need for her to suffer through a long procedure to restore something she did not need anymore.   
“Are you… sure?” Even in the dim light, Yrdenne saw Naisula frowning.   
“Yes.”

Soon after Yrdenne drunk the potion, she started feeling dizzy and tired. Her eyes became heavy and she barely noticed that Naisula snuggled up against her and planted a kiss on her cheek.  
“You will heal, Yrdenne,” were the last word she heard before she fell into a long and dreamless sleep.

Instead of taking Yrdenne to the border with the other sentinels the next day, Naisula stayed with Yrdenne by the tent and tried to make it as comfortable as possible. Most of the time, Yrdenne was only half awake, the medication from Naisula kept her in a state of doziness.   
In the evening, Kasi came to look after them. Her dark green hair was wet and she wore an elaborately wrapped pareo in bright yellow.  
“It´s a pity that you couldn´t come today,” Kasi chuckled after she and Naisula brought Yrdenne outside, so she could get some fresh air and sit at the pond. “Some scavengers came a little too close to the border in an attempt to loot the weapons of their forerunners. Would have been nice to see you in action, Yrdenne. I heard your archery skills are impressive – for a dh’oine.”  
A smile flitted across Yrdenne’s pale face. The cramps and – as Naisula had foreseen – the bleeding that had set in drained her strength, but not the excitement about her duty with the Brokilon sentinels.   
“You can count me in for tomorrow,” Yrdenne replied and glanced to Naisula with doe eyes.  
The dryad rolled her eyes, but she smiled.  
“If you feel well enough, you can do whatever you want.”  
“You can count me in for the upcoming weeks,” Yrdenne added with a slight grin. She would not allow herself to lay somewhere, drowning in self-pity.   
“So, that raises a questions…” Kasi cleared her throat, “I don´t want to force a decision now, but we need to talk about your horse. We don´t have the means to take care of it on a long run. And it probably feels lonely without a herd, already. If you… would like to stay, you might want to release it. As far as I know, the Aen Seidhe train their horses to return to their home, if they are separated from their rider.”  
With the mention of the Dol Blathanna camp, something heavy lay on Yrdenne’s chest. Her right hand twitched, but she fought the urge down to claw her nails into her left wrist. Instead, Yrdenne laid her hand on the ground and dug her fingertips into the cool soil.  
“We can take it to the border and set it free, tomorrow.” Yrdenne decided.   
“Great, we will do that.” A mysterious chuckle spread on Kasi’s face. “Fortunately, I already got you your – how did the elves call it? – uniform.” With that, she reached for a leather-wrapped package that lay behind her and handed it to Yrdenne. Neither Yrdenne nor Naisula noticed it before. But Naisula started to join Kasi’s grin and shifted a little closer to Yrdenne to watch her unpacking.  
The bundle was as long as Yrdenne’s forearm and about as thick, and it was held together by a two-finger wide braided leather band. Curious, Yrdenne opened the knot of the band and unwrapped the package. It was made from the band, one larger leather cloth and a smaller on. Inside the wrapping, Yrdenne found a sheath with a dagger.   
“That´s all?” she asked with raised eyebrows. It took her an instant to remember what Kasi usually wore – a loincloth. “Are you serious?” Wide-eyed, Yrdenne met Kasi’s gaze.  
“Of course,” her smile did not vanish the slightest bit, and Yrdenne did not fail to notice her pride, “Naisula suggested to add a wider band if want to cover your breasts, though. Just in case.”  
Marvelled, Yrdenne stared at the thoughtful gift: the clothes and weapon of a Brokilon sentinel.   
“Thank you, Kasi. I am honoured.”  
As a reply, Kasi winked at Yrdenne. “We thought, the best way to prove the Elder Council you are worthy to receive their help is to show them you are one of our sisters, no matter if dryad or dh’oine.”  
“Remember that feeling when she yells at you for doing something stupid,” Naisula added, “Kasi is in charge of our unit.”  
“Don´t scare her away!” Kasi laughed out loud. “That´s my job!”  
Her laughter was so catchy, that Yrdenne and Naisula joined her. The acceptance and unconditional friendship of the dryads expelled more of the darkness in Yrdenne’s heart. Despite the turn her life took, it felt lighter than yesterday.

Releasing the horse Idris had entrusted to her care was harder that Yrdenne expected. In some way, the animal was her lifeline to the outer world, and to Iorveth. Sending the gelding back to the camp, if he found the way, felt like cutting the last ties to him. As Yrdenne watched the horse dashing away from Brokilon, the wind rose and dark clouds clustered at the Eastern horizon. Her skin was painted with flowers and leaves, the same patterns that adorned the skin of the dryads.   
Naisula stepped to Yrdenne’s side and took her hand.   
“Sometimes, letting go of the way home leads you where you need to be.”  
“I am right where I need to be,” replied Yrdenne and squeezed Naisula’s hand. The truth of these words echoed to the very core of her soul, a feeling she had for the first time in years.   
When the horse was out of sight, Yrdenne turned around and looked at the edge of the archaic forest in front of her. Even though they were invisible, Yrdenne knew that high in the trees were her new sisters, the sentinels of the Brokilon, fierce dryads armed with bows and daggers. Not even a dozen, but their aim was deadly to everyone coming too close to their lands. 

Yrdenne was surprised how many humans dared to approach the ancient forest, and how busy the border was. From the branch she stood on, she watched people passing in the distance, three men with a horse-waggon, a group of people, presumably non-humans, traveling Southern, and a horseman on a white horse. It was impossible to see their faces, but some were close enough so Yrdenne could tell that some of them turned their head to the forest edge every now and then. Were they aware that the death lurked behind those trees?  
In the evening, it started to rain and Yrdenne was glad when the relief arrived. They all were soaking wet when they arrived in the village, but Yrdenne was blithe when she crawled into her bedroll that night. For now, she found her purpose.

A few days later, it was still raining. When the dryads were about to set out for the watch, Kasi came with short hooded capes for everyone, just long enough so the feathering of their arrows stayed dry.  
“You don´t aim well when you get rain in your eyes,” she explained with a wink. They all nodded, secretly knowing that Kasi was as sick of getting wet as they were. Their warpaint was smudged before they reached the border.  
It was early and not many dryads were awake, so Yrdenne was surprised to see a blue-ish skinned dryad in a long purple dress approaching them. Both Kasi and Naisula frowned, when they noticed her.  
“Good morning Albruna, what news do you have?” Kasi greeted her with a brief nod. Yrdenne raised her eyebrows, this was Albruna, the seeress Kasi had mentioned when she met the Elder Council.  
“Kasi, take the deer with you. I saw something in the water,” Albruna said. Her voice was a whisper, like wind in the leaves. “Men are coming, clad in iron.”  
A murmur rose between the sentinels, and Naisula went to Yrdenne and laid a hand on her shoulder.  
“You don´t need to come today, if you don´t want. It might get…dirty.”  
Before Naisula finished the sentence, Albruna’s gaze switched to Yrdenne. The seeress looked young at first, but she seemed to stare right into Yrdenne’s soul, a shiver ran down her spine when the dryad met her gaze.  
“She must go to be worthy.”  
Her voice was like fingernails scratching on slate.  
“No, she does not-” “Naisula!” Kasi snarled. A warning. The words of the elders and the seeresses were law. Yrdenne begun to despise the word – worthy. What did that mean anyway?   
Kasi raised her hand, and everyone fell silent. “Let´s get the deer, then. And take extra arrows.”

Yrdenne did not know what to expect of those deer when they went to a nearby clearing, each of them carrying two additional quivers on some sort of harness. As soon as they arrived Kasi released a high-pitched quavering yell. For sure, she did not expect the herd of man-high feral deer with sprawling needle-sharp antlers that came dashing through the underforest.   
The deer with the largest antlers, obviously the matriarch, went straight to Kasi, and to Yrdenne it seemed that the other animals chose their rider, too. A young buck with fierce eyes came to her and nudged her stomach with his soft nostrils.   
“So, it´s you and me against the world, today,” she whispered to him and patted his neck. His fur was surprisingly soft. She saw how the other dryads hung the harness with the quivers over the deers’ shoulders and fastened the buckles and followed their lead. Right when she started to wonder how to get on his back, the deer knelt down and patiently waited until their riders mounted. With another yell from Kasi, the deer got up again and on her sign, they broke into a trot towards the borders of Brokilon.

When the group reached the edge of the forest, everything was quiet. The morning mist still hung over the grassland and not a single bird sang.  
“Get into the trees,” Kasi ordered, “Report everything you see. Ceit, ride Northern to the next watch post and alarm our sisters, Saoirse, you go Southern. We only ride out, when we have no other choice. You kill everything within range.”  
While the other sentinels immediately did as they were told, Kasi turned to Yrdenne and Naisula.  
“Yrdenne, I know you fought before. However, I don´t know how used you are to follow orders. You will do nothing without an order, do you get me?” Kasi had a feral growl in her voice. “You are one of us, but if you do anything stupid and risk the life on any of my warriors, I will not hesitate to send an arrow in your knee.” Naisula knitted her brows and opened her mouth, but a glare from Kasi kept her quiet.   
Yrdenne swallowed and nodded.   
“Good. Up with you.” With these words, Kasi started to climb up into the next tree to watch out for whatever was coming.

It was still raining and the atmosphere was strained. The sky stayed dark and cloudy, and the whole morning, the sun would not break through. A chill wind blew through the trees and Yrdenne shivered. At noon, Yrdenne started to wonder how accurate the visions of Albruna were. But right in the moment she wanted to turn to Naisula and ask her about the seeress, she noticed movements in the distance.  
“They are coming, a group of horsemen!”, yelled one of the sentinels. Yrdenne could not see her, but she heard the rustle in the trees, where the dryads nocked their arrows.  
“I see one group… no, two! They… are hunting the first one,” Kasi was highest and had the best view. “The first unit are armored warriors in black and silver, about one dozen. The second… I can´t see them yet. It´s a bulk of blackness.”  
The last sentence made Yrdenne shiver, an inkling rose in her guts who was coming for them. Suddenly, her heart was in her mouth and she clawed at the branch she held on to even tighter. The lump in her throat made it difficult to breath.   
“Naisula, what if… we fail to stop them?” she asked with a hoarse voice.   
“In all the centuries, we never failed. The borders of Brokilon will not fall,” Naisula replied, “I am sure, reinforcement is on the way. It takes some time to summon the treants.”  
With a pounding heart, she watched the horsemen coming closer and closer, and she saw that the bulk of blackness started to catch up with the first unit. There was no time to ponder was a treant was. The wind carried their yells to the trees, but yet it was impossible to tell who they were. One of the warriors in the first group drew his sword and raised it into the air, as if he waving at them. As if he knew they were waiting.  
“Yrdenne… those Warriors…” Naisula’s eyes widened, but it was Kasi who yelled it out loud.  
“Dol Blathanna!” Kasi’s voice was a roar, “They are hunting Dol Blathanna!”  
Yrdenne tore her eyes open and stared at the warriors, Kasi’s scream shattered her inner core. They were close now, close enough to see that most of them wore light grey armor, almost silver, only three of them were clad in black steel, like their chasers. She did not need to see their faces to know that one of them was Iorveth.  
Out of nothing, a ball of dazzling red light flashed from the black horsemen into the elves. They had a mage, and Yrdenne recognized this ball of light. It must be the same man who killed Cjardeth. Wrath rose in her chest. The spell only hit the ground, but the impact ripped three of the Dol Blathanna warriors off their horses. Others hauled their horses around to help their comrades, making them direct targets.  
“This filthy spineless bastard,” she growled more than she spoke. This time, she would not let him get away. “Kasi, they have a mage. He is powerful, but fears arrows. We have to get out there!”  
The dryad looked down to Yrdenne and shook her head.  
“No, Yrdenne. Not yet. They are not close enough.”  
“But the elves are dying!” Yrdenne screamed.  
“Yrdenne, we need them within the range of our arrows,” Naisula replied softly. “Wait a little.”  
A look at the battlefield told Yrdenne that the elves would not make it into their range. All of them turned their horses to face the men of the Purple Lantern, to protect those who had lost their horses. The black knights reached the elven warriors in the very moment, and it was obvious that they outnumbered Iorveth and his warriors. The mage stayed away, and at least he could not cast a spell without hurting his own men.  
Yrdenne had enough. Her blood was boiling, so she hung her bow over her shoulder, swiftly climbed down the tree and ran to her deer. Kasi did not notice her, and Naisula was so shocked by her blatant disobedience that she did not know how to react.   
The young buck watched her with curious eyes and knelt down when he saw Yrdenne coming, and to her relief he did not wait for a sign from Kasi, but got back up right when Yrdenne was on his back.  
“All right my boy, I have to figure out how to navigate you without reins, but we are going straight into the battle,” she whispered and gently nudged her heels into his flank.  
To her surprise, the buck got what she wanted and turned to the forest edge. In the corner of her eyes, Yrdenne saw that Naisula followed her without informing Kasi. It took another nudge to spur the buck, and as soon as he passed the last trees he broke into a full gallop. Shrieking yells above her head told Yrdenne that the dryads finally noticed her, but she did not care. All she knew was that if that arse of a mage did not come into her operating range, she would come for him.  
The warriors were so caught in their battle that, at first, no one noticed her. The first one to see her was a man of the Purple Lantern and his surprise to see her got him stabbed by the blade of an elf. A feral grin spread on Yrdenne’s face. She slid the bow off her shoulder, fished an arrow from one of the quivers in front of her and nocked it to the string of her bow.   
“You lost your mind!” Naisula yelled behind her. When Yrdenne turned her head she saw that Naisula was on her deer and had almost caught up. “But I am with you. Let´s spike these dh’oines with arrows!”  
“We need to get around them, to end to this gods damned mage!” Yrdenne pointed at the man in the black robe.  
“Got you!”  
As if they knew what to do, the deer split up and circled the battle, Naisula on the right and Yrdenne on the left. Angry screams accompanied them, and hopeful yells from the elves. Two black knights set out to attack Yrdenne, but they did not make it far. One rode directly into Yrdenne’s firing line and her arrow bored into his throat before he knew what happened. The second tried to dodge, but one of the elves broke out to catch him. Yrdenne prayed for forgiveness when she sent an arrow into the chest of his horse. The animal reared and while the knight clung to his saddle, the Dol Blathanna warrioress rammed her sword into the men’s neck. The man was dead before he hit the ground. With a brief bow, the elf thanked her and threw herself back into battle.  
Through the clashing steel, Yrdenne heard a trilling battle cry behind her back, so she risked a glance over her shoulder. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw that the dryads were coming. Finally!  
Relieved, she turned back to her aim and nocked another arrow. The mage had already noticed the menacing danger and started to cast another spell, yet unsure whom to attack first.   
With shaking hands Yrdenne nocked another arrow and drew her bow. Even if she missed him, the narrowing threat would stress him. To Yrdenne’s amusement, his horse was not very battle-tried and begun to prance about. On the other side of the battle, Naisula joined Yrdenne’s offence and together they drove him away from his men.   
When the other dryads were close enough to shot, the deer slowed down and, like Naisula und Yrdenne, they started to circle the battle and cherry-picked their targets. Other than the mage, the dryads aimed to well, that they easily shot into the crowd and only hit the men of the Purple Lantern. Only Kasi did not join them, but went after Yrdenne.  
“You nitwit! I can´t believe this!”, Kasi roared when she reached Yrdenne, “You know that this has an aftermath?”  
“I don´t care!” Yrdenne screamed back at her.  
Out of nothing, a shattering noise drowned the battle sounds for an instant.   
“Anyway, we got reinforcement.” Kasi nodded at the forest edge and bore her teeth. “Let´s end these bastards.” With a high pitched cry she spurred the deer and followed the mage.   
A bloodcurdling roar rolled over the field, and its source was a living nightmare. That, Yrdenne mused, was a treant, a monster from dark legends written in lost books. The beast looked like a living tree, but with claws and fangs. And it came closer. On what Yrdenne identified as its shoulder, she spotted a dryad.   
The men of the Purple Lantern froze in shock, and their fearful cries blended in with the growling of the treant. Driven away from the knights that were meant to protect him, the mage realized that they fought a losing battle. Distracted by the treant, Kasi, Naisula and Ceit were close enough to place some well-aimed shots and only a quickly cast shield-spell saved his life. To his misfortune, one of Kasi’s arrows was only deflected and bored into his arm. Yrdenne could only guess his curses, but eventually the mage decided it was time for a pullback. Leaving his men dry and high, he took flight and those who saw him, followed his lead.  
Meanwhile, after Yrdenne recovered from the sight of the treant, she spotted Iorveth in the dissociating crowd. He was off his horse and raged like a berserk, but failed to place fatal hits because the black knights were still on mounts. A stroke by one of the Dol Blathanna warriors blew a knight off his horse right behind Iorveth. With wide eyes, Yrdenne witnessed how the man crawled to get his sword back and pulled himself up again. Staggering, the man walked right towards Iorveth, who was busy keeping the mounted knights away.  
Without hesitation Yrdenne spurred her deer and dashed straight into the fight. The buck lowered his head, so his antlers became a deadly weapon to everyone who dared to step into their way. Iorveth still did not notice the men, and everything around Yrdenne became blurry and faded. She heard someone screaming Iorveth’s name, but he did not understand. At least, not fast enough. Like a plough, the buck furrowed through the fighting and Yrdenne reached the staggering knight in the moment he raised his sword.   
In pure despair, she dropped her bow, drew her dagger and jumped off her deer’s back. The impact of Yrdenne crashing against his back ripped the knight off his feet and before he knew what happened, she drove her dagger into his neck, right into his artery. In that moment, Iorveth turned around, his face distorted in wrath and his sword ready to strike. Baffled, he watched how Yrdenne and the knight plunged to the ground. When Yrdenne pulled her blade out of his body, a wave of blood gushed over her. Behind her, the young buck thrust against anyone who dared to get near him or Yrdenne with his massive antlers.  
“Iorveth, to your right!” The warrior who got Iorveth’s back was no one but Cadfael. Iorveth whirled around and blocked the stroke of a mounted knight. In an instant, Cadfael was by his side and together they finished their enemy. More and more of the black-armored men fell through the blades of the elves and the arrows of the dryads, and those who had noticed the nearing treant, took flight, like their coward of a mage.  
After he made sure that no enemies were close, Iorveth turned back to Yrdenne and watched awestruck how she got back on her feet, picked up her bow and mounted the man-high deer. Her arms were covered in blood up to her elbows and her barely-dressed body was adorned with painted flowers and leaves. A real dryad, just that she was not.   
He could only stare at her.  
Yrdenne met his gaze, and the whirlwind of butterflies and rose in her chest were hard to bear. Every fibre in her body wanted to get down of that buck, run to Iorveth and embrace him. But she persisted and fought the feeling down. He did not want her. He had send her away, because he found someone else. Someone he settled down for, someone who carried his child.  
The butterflies faded into numb nothingness. Iorveth sheathed his sword and made a step towards her, but when he raised his arm and reached out for her, Yrdenne nudged the flank of her deer and steered it away. She was not able to face him. Not now, not like that.  
While the other dryads gathered and greeted the elves, Yrdenne spurred the buck to get back into the safety of Brokilon.

“Yrdenne, wait for me!” Naisula followed her on the heels.  
When she was far enough that Iorveth would not be able to catch up, Yrdenne slowed her deer and waited for Naisula.   
“Oh sister, that was wild!” she blurted when she reached Yrdenne, “Kasi will rip your head off, but if you didn´t set out, we would be still sitting in those trees and watch the elves die.”  
“I know,” Yrdenne replied with a low voice, “But that´s what I do. I run into the blaze to save those I love.”. She almost could hear Iorveth, Dalayer and Malik simultaneously yell at her for that. Iorveth… The look he gave her burnt right into her soul. Yrdenne’s throat felt sore and dry when she thought about him.  
“How did you know…?” – “I didn´t. But I could not sit and watch.”  
“I have not decided if that was brave or dumb,” Naisula sighed.   
“Both, probably,” Yrdenne sighed, too. “I need a bath.”  
Naisula cocked her head and chuckled. “Let´s go home, then.”

They rode the rest of the way in silence. Thanks to the reliability of the deer, Yrdenne did not need to pay attention where they were going. The buck took her straight to the clearing where Kasi had called them in the morning. Once they were off the backs of their mounts, Naisula took Yrdenne’s hand and guided her to their tent.  
Wordless, she helped Yrdenne to free herself from her clothes and to unbraid and brush her hair. As soon as her hair was undone, Yrdenne waded into the pond and Naisula got a piece of soap and followed her right away, to help her washing off the war paint and the blood.   
“I am sorry,” Yrdenne mumbled while Naisula gently rubbed her back.  
“For what?”  
“For being such an awful lot of work.” Yrdenne dropped her head. “I can never pay back what you do for me.”  
As a response, Naisula huffed.  
“That´s bollocks.”   
With both her hands, Naisula shoved water over Yrdenne’s back to wash away the foam. Then, she wrapped her arms around Yrdenne’s waist and laid her head on Yrdenne’s shoulder.   
“My love. You are my friend. I do what I do, because I know you need it. I can sense that. And I also sense that you would do the very same for me.” She gently squeezed Yrdenne. “By the mother, you ran into a battle just with a knife and without armor for people you did not know. I can only imagine what you would do for your friends. Don´t play that down.”  
“Thank you.” Yrdenne swallowed.   
“I am happy to help you,” Naisula planted a kiss on her cheek. “And now get out of the water. I am going to wrap you into a blanket and get you something warm to drink.”  
Yrdenne did as she was told.

Eventually, she sat on her regular spot under the tree at the brink, wearing one of Naisula’s sleeveless dresses with a pair of her own knitted socks, a blanket around her shoulders and a mug with a steaming herbal infusion in her hands. Naisula left to see if the other sentinels returned from the battle and to check how furious Kasi was about Yrdenne’s behaviour.   
Lost in thoughts, Yrdenne stared at the surface of the pond. Every now and then, a rain drop made it through the roof of leaves high above her head and fell into the pond. Dragonflies hovered over the water hunting water bugs.  
She did not know how much time had passed, when she heard Naisula’s voice. At first, Yrdenne mused Naisula talked to Kasi. But when she turned her head, she saw that Naisula brought someone else with her.  
It was Iorveth.   
He still wore his dark red gambeson and tight green trousers with his riding boots, but had taken off every piece of his armor. The black bandage covered his bad eye. Out of nothing, Yrdenne felt sick and something clenched her heart. With trembling fingers, she stood up, so she could face him on eye level.   
When she squared her back and met his gaze, Iorveth stopped. Naisula’s gaze flitted from Yrdenne to Iorveth and back.  
“I guess I leave you two alone,” she mumbled and hurried down the path back to the village.  
Like on the battlefield, Iorveth stared at Yrdenne. He looked her over from head to toe, his gaze lingered on her new tattoo for an instant, before he met her gaze.  
“Hej, Yrdenne.”  
How she had yearned for this, and how she had feared it. Yrdenne inhaled deeply. He looked miserable. His hair was messy and his skin was pale and dull. The dark circle under his good eye spoke volumes.  
“Hej, Iorveth.”  
Her fingers clawed to the seam of her dress.  
In the next moment, Iorveth ran the few steps between them, crashed into her and wrapped his arms around her. He pressed her tight against his chest and buried his face in her damp hair.  
“I was so scared they would find you before we could. I was so scared they already got you.”  
There was nothing Yrdenne could say. With all her strength, she tried not to cry. What in all gods names did he want from her?   
After some breaths, Iorveth pulled back so he could look at her again, his hands still on her shoulders.  
“What are you doing in Brokilon? I thought you were going to Castle La Valette. I send one of my warriors to follow you, to make sure you arrive there safely. I was worried sick when she told me she could not find you.”  
Yrdenne’s heart was pounding like a war drum, it was impossible he did not hear it. And it was raging, because how did he dare? She met his gaze with knitted brows.  
“You sent someone to follow me?”  
“Our sentinels reported increased activity of the Purple Lantern. Their men roamed the woods day and night. I could not forgive myself if they got you.” Iorveth scanned her face, her expression as if he was searching for something, hoping for something he did not see yet.  
“Now you see that I made it to Brokilon on my own, and without any problems.” To hide her trembling hands, Yrdenne crossed her arms in front of her chest.   
“A border patrol told me that you travelled Western on one of our horses. Brokilon was truly the last destination I thought of,” Iorveth admitted and brushed through his hair.  
“Because it is none of your business where I go. Why are you here, Iorveth?” Her voice was colder than she had intended. Puzzled, Iorveth looked into her eyes.  
“Because I think the Purple Lantern is searching for you. A few days ago, my scouts saw them with one of our horses – the horse you took! I gathered my most trusted warriors and decided to follow them. Yrdenne, I-” “Iorveth, but why do you care?” Yrdenne cut him off and frowned, “It was you who told me to leave.”  
The utter disbelief on his face was heart-breaking, his hands let go of her and his shoulders dropped.   
“I did what?” Iorveth slightly shook his head, but then his eye widened and he stared at a still healing wound on his hand. He traced the scar with the index of his other hand and whispered: “I don´t remember that.” When Yrdenne cringed at his words, Iorveth met her gaze.  
“I don´t remember that night,” he said, this time louder, “Can you tell me what I have done to you?”


	17. Olive Branch

Life was busy in Brokilon. Two dragonflies chased each other over the surface of the pond, a frog jumped from a lily pad into the water with a tiny splash and a bumblebee investigated the floral patterns of Naisula’s tent. Only Iorveth and Yrdenne did not fit in this blithe and lush scenery.  
“What do you mean, you don´t remember that night?” Yrdenne raised her eyebrows and dropped her arms.  
“I remember that you came to my tent and that we went to my chamber to talk. From then, everything gets blurry… The morning after, I woke up with a bleeding hand and a room full of shattered glass,” Iorveth said, his voice was rough and his throat bobbed when he swallowed. “Did I… hurt you?”  
Yrdenne huffed. “Not physically, at least. But I can tell you what happened.” Nervous, she ran her hand through her wet hair to brush it out of her face. “We talked about the past five years. I told you about Vizima, and you explained how you became the pet of Francesca Findabhair.” Yrdenne chose the wording on purpose, and it did not fail to hit Iorveth. When she saw how devastated he looked at her, she instantly regretted what she said. “Sorry… that wasn´t fair. It was just… so unexpected, taking in account how you loathed Dol Blathanna, and her, back then in Novigrad. After you told me everything I…” Yrdenne hesitated, but eventually decided that he deserved to know everything. After all, he came to Brokilon for her. “I made an attempt to kiss you.”  
Suddenly, Iorveth face lit up. “You made an attempt?”  
“You turned away,” Yrdenne replied and could not hide her bitterness,” You turned away from me and started to insult me. You made clear that you felt… used by me, and that you did not want me. I thought you were drunk, so I decided to leave you alone until you were sober. But…” Her voice cracked and she had to take a deep breath to continue. “You told me to take my belongings with me and said you did not want to be bothered by me anymore.”  
Her narration shattered Iorveth. Wide-eyed, he stared at her and slightly shook his head, as if he could not believe what she said. Never before, Yrdenne had seen him speechless and it broke her heart.  
“It´s not that I don´t see why you feel that way. Really, Iorveth, I do. I regret that I left you in Novigrad, and I wish I didn´t. But I cannot eradicate the past five years…” – “Yrdenne don´t,” Iorveth cut her off, “Don´t make excuses for my awful behaviour. There is no explanation why I said that, I acted like a spineless sod, and that admits of no excuse.” He raised his hands to massage his temples and shook his head again.  
“We all do things we are not proud of when we have too much wine…” Yrdenne mumbled, and for a moment she thought of Dalayer.  
“I wasn´t drunk, Yrdenne,” Iorveth stated, and there was an angry growl in his voice. “I did not even have that much wine.” He paused and met her gaze. “Someone drugged me.”  
“What? Who?” Baffled, Yrdenne started at him. That could explain a lot. “Cadfael,” she hissed through clenched teeth.  
But to her surprise, Iorveth shook his head again.  
“I don´t know who it was, but for sure not Cadfael. He is a prick and he hates me with passion, but that´s a personal issue. Regarding the army of Dol Blathanna, he is loyal to the bone. I trust him with my life. He was the first to volunteer, when I decided to set out for you.”  
“Do you even know what he did to me?” Furious that Iorveth considered Cadfael trustworthy, Yrdenne pulled her dress up to reveal the branding. “That´s the work of him and his friends.”  
Iorveth looked down at the three red marks on her thigh. The skin was heeling well under Naisula’s care, but the scars would remain.  
“I know. He told me when I took him to task. Believe me, he paid for that. Both by disciplinary measures and personally. I blame myself for not being there to protect you.” Iorveth ran his hand through his hair while he searched for words. “It seems like your life gets worse, whenever I am close to you. By the gods, I don´t even know how to apologize for all of that.”  
By all means, Yrdenne disagreed. With all her heart she wanted to tell him, that whenever her life took a bad turn, he was there to catch her fall. He was her light in the darkness. But then, he was also someone else’s light. His child would need him more than she did.  
“Iorveth, stop feeling so responsible for me,” she took a deep breath before she continued, “Mirhanwen told me about the life debt. That you are… obligated to protect me. But you don´t have to. I am a grown woman, and I can take care of myself. You saved my life, but I think I paid back for that. You are free from that liability.”  
Iorveth huffed.  
“Do you really think I did all of that because of an ancient law of my people?”  
Of course she did not, and the urge to wrap her arms around him and to tell him everything was all right was choking. She wanted to feel him so badly.  
“I don´t know, Iorveth. But we both continued to live our lives, the past five years. And when this is over, we will return to those lives and that´s fine. I often think about what we had in Novigrad,” a look into his face told her, he, too, “But maybe it´s time to move on.”  
What a blatant lie. All she had wanted through those five years was him. The slight cramps that still would flash through her womb, every now and then, reminded her of the price she paid for the waiting. And the memory of their kiss in Dwynwen’s bathroom sent pleasant shivers through her body, that kiss hand not felt like anyone of them wanted to move on. But he had a commitment, and she did not want to make it worse for him. She did not want to make him choose. After all, she only wanted him to be happy.  
To Yrdenne’s surprise, he bought it.  
“Maybe it´s time,” Iorveth replied and nodded. “My warriors and I will stay a few days in Brokilon, at least until those who are injured are able to sit on a horseback again. It would be nice if we could, I don´t know, have a chat or do some archery together. For the good old days.”  
A brief smile flitted across Yrdenne’s face.  
“I´d love to. But tell Cadfael to stay away from me when I am armed. I have a score to settle.”  
Now Iorveth chuckled, too.  
“I won´t hold you back. See you later then, or tomorrow.”  
“Bye, Iorveth.”  
Without a hug, or any other attempt to touch her, Iorveth turned around and left. 

Yrdenne watched him go, her arms tightly wrapped around her body because she needed something to hold on. As soon as he was out of sight, and hopefully out of hearing range, her knees gave in and she slumped to the ground, utterly crying. Hot tears streamed down her face and her fingers dug into the soil because the pain of letting him go was unbearable. Between all the lush greens and the busy birds and bees she felt wrong and misplaced.  
Naisula must have been waiting nearby, because she was at Yrdenne’s side, only moments after Iorveth left. Instantly, she knelt down next to Yrdenne and wrapped her arms around her.  
“Hush, my love, I am here,” Naisula whispered and stroked Yrdenne’s back, “Cry the pain away, you are not alone.”  
“I love him, Naisula,” Yrdenne sobbed, “I did not even know how much, until now. And I lost him.”  
“But… did you tell him?” Naisula knitted her brows.  
Vehemently, Yrdenne shook her head.  
“I will not stand between him and his family. If it was only another woman, I might have told him. After all, it would be his choice to make. But there is a child, Naisula. I can´t do that.”  
Naisula laid a hand on Yrdenne’s cheek and wiped her tears away with her thumb.  
“Yrdenne, how much do you know about the social conventions of the Aen Seidhe?”  
“The basics, I guess. Why?” Yrdenne wiped the other side of her face with the back of her hand, leaving some crumbs of soil on her skin.  
“Among humans, they live together as families for security reasons. But among their kind they are rather… promiscuous, how my mother used to call it. Especially the younger elves,” Naisula explained, her lips curled into a soft smile, “Elves don´t have an equivalent to marriage, and even if they have a partner and children, they separate family duties and carnal desires. It goes that far, that titles are inherited only from the mother, never from the father. Solely because too often it’s not sure who the father is. Maybe it is not what you hope for… but you should talk to him. There might be other ways to be together.”  
With every word from Naisula, Yrdenne’s eyes became wider.  
“Did you just suggest to be his mistress?”  
“By the gods, no,” Naisula shook her head, “I just said you should tell him what you feel. You don´t know anything about his situation, do you?” – “No, but…” – “Girl, don´t you see how he looks at you? He came for you. He fought for you. He wants you! Take that chance.”  
Yrdenne sighed. That was against everything she believed in.  
“If it doesn´t feel right, do it on Midsommar,” gently, Naisula nudged her side, “There will be a Feainn feast with a bonfire and such.”  
Yrdenne frowned. “Why would it be easier on Midsommar?”  
“Oh, you really don´t know much about the Aen Seidhe, do you?” a grin spread on Naisula’s face, “Like Belletyen, it’s a fertility festival for the elves. And since it´s the shortest night in the year, they say things that happen on Feainn basically never happened, as long as the couple parts before sunset.”  
“So, it´s an occasion to cheat?” Yrdenne was baffled, but Naisula rolled her eyes.  
“No. It´s a chance for the elves to let themselves go and fuck around without consequences. Since they all do it, it´s socially totally accepted. Also since, for the first time in a while, male elves are in Brokilon, I have some sisters who hope to find a mate. So you might want to be the one by his side that night.” And with a smirk she added. “It´s in two days.”  
This news increased Yrdenne’s heartrate and the thought alone made her blush.  
“I will… think about it.”  
And the thought of one last night with Iorveth haunted her mind for the rest of the day and long into the night, until she finally fell asleep.

The next morning, Yrdenne decided that she had to face Kasi, to apologize for what she had done. After a brief breakfast she picked a sand-coloured dress with red flower embroidery, a gift from the seamstress of the dryad village. Even though she missed wearing simple trousers and shirts, she enjoyed wearing the floral clothes of the dryads. In the dresses and her sentinel clothing she felt like she was part of the community.  
After a stroll through the village, Yrdenne found Kasi on the path to the archery range. The dryad was stuck in a conversation with two of the Dol Blathanna elves, a brunette male and a female with flaming red hair. To Yrdenne’s surprise, they wore very casual clothes and were barefoot. She recognized the woman, she was the sentinel who stood watch in front of Iorveth’s tent. The two elves greeted Yrdenne with a welcoming smile.  
“We just talked about you,” Kasi raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms in front of her chest.  
“Oh,” was all Yrdenne could reply.  
“Things looked pretty bad for us, yesterday,” said the red-haired elf, “I doubt we would have made it without your fast intervention of the Brokilon sentinels.”  
“I told them it was your… decision,” Kasi added. The corner of her mouth twitched slightly upwards. “We just followed your lead.”  
Blood rushed into Yrdenne’s face and tinted her cheeks rosy.  
“Um… that´s why I was looking for you Kasi. I do you have a moment for me?”  
The elves exchanged a brief glance, mumbled something about errands to run and went their way.  
“So…?” Kasi squared her back and raised both eyebrows.  
“Kasi… I am sorry. My behaviour was irresponsible and unacceptable. I know that I endangered all of us. I just…” Yrdenne scratched her head while she was searching for words, “I could not stand and watch. One of them is a close friend of mine and I had to help him. If you don´t want me on duty anymore, I understand.” – “Yrdenne…” – “No, really! Since things became so… strained I thought of leaving. I don´t think I can convince the Elder Council to help me, anyway…” – “No, Yrdenne!” “I hope you can take my apology.”  
“Can you please let me say something?” Kasi rolled her eyes. “I sent note about you to the Council yesterday.”  
Yrdenne’s heart skipped a beat.  
“You did what?” Now, all her hope to meet Aglaïs was gone. Yrdenne expected punishment for what she had done, but not that Kasi would run straight to the Elders.  
“I told them that without you, our sisters and brother from Dol Blathanna would have lost that battle. No dryad was harmed and, as far as we can tell, all the injured elves will survive, thanks to the fast access to our healers. The Elders appreciate your courage,” a feral grin spread on Kasi’s face. “You are allowed to meet Aglaïs the day after Feainn.”  
A wave of excitement rushed through Yrdenne’s core. Wide-eyed, she stared at Kasi and did not know what to say.  
“You make an awful dryad, or at least an awful sentinel… but you are brave and you would give your own life for others. That is truly remarkable,” Kasi’s grin turned into a warm smile and she laid her hands on Yrdenne’s shoulders.  
“Thank you, Kasi,” Yrdenne’s throat bobbed and she returned Kasi’s smile.  
“It´s a pleasure, Yrdenne,” Kasi nodded, “I hope you don´t mind that you are exempt of your duties, until you return from meeting Aglaïs. Some of the elves volunteered to join us for watch, so you can take a break and spend some time with Naisula. I think I saw her by the archery range, by the way.”  
An uneasy feeling blended into Yrdenne’s joy, Kasi’s words sounded too much like a farewell.  
“That´s really… considerate. Thank you. I will see if I find her.”  
“Enjoy the day, and see you later.”  
With these words, Kasi hurried to meet the other sentinels.

Something heavy lay on Yrdenne’s chest on her way to the archery range. And she did not feel any better when she saw that not only Naisula wanted to use the day for training, but three elves occupied a lane on the other side of the archery field. Cadfael, his black-haired friend and a blond female Yrdenne did not remember. All of them barefoot, wearing plain trousers and light shirts. Fortunately, the elves did not pay much attention to her, so Yrdenne sped her pace to reach Naisula and turned her back on them.  
“Hej Yrdenne, everything all right?” a wide smile spread on Naisula’s face. “Kasi told me already yesterday that the two of us will be off duty, so I told her to send you over when she´s done with you. How did it go?”  
“Hey Naisula,” Yrdenne replied, “I am sure she already told you… I got the permission to talk to Aglaïs.”  
“Yes, she did. I am so happy, that you will receive support to help your friends from Mahakam,” but while her smile stayed, something about Naisula’s voice was sad, and her eyes did not sparkle as much as usually. “It´s an honour to meet Aglaïs, I am sure she can solve the mystery about this disease.”  
Yrdenne took a deep breath. “Yes, I hope so.” She wanted to ask Naisula if she came with her to meet Aglaïs, but her uneasy gut feeling told her to postpone this question. Instead, Yrdenne pointed at the bow in Naisula’s hand. “Do you mind if I use yours? Mine is still in the tent.”  
Immediately, the sadness vanished from Naisula’s face. “I brought with me! It´s on the bow rack behind you, together with your quiver.”

After Yrdenne got her gear, the two women started their training with a little archery tournament, as usual. The target Naisula picked for the first round was a large checkerboard that allowed to play different games. This time, they aimed to hit six neighbouring fields, taking turns on shooting. Yrdenne knew that she would never be able to keep up with Naisula’s skills, but after almost two weeks in Brokilon she had improved a lot, also thanks to Naisula’s tips and tricks.  
They had just finished the second round at the same target, when Yrdenne heard someone clapping behind them.  
“That was quite impressive,” said a male voice. Yrdenne clenched her teeth. Cadfael.  
But before she could send Naisula a warning look, her friend turned around and greeted the elf with her lovely smile.  
“Hej, thank you.”  
Yrdenne turned to him with knitted brows. At least, he came without his friends. And something about his face was… off, but she could not point a finger on it. And a greenish shadow around his eye and on his cheekbone indicated a healing bruise.  
“What do you want?” she asked and did not even try to be friendly.  
“Aenye Bradlofrudd, it´s truly a surprise to meet you here,” Cadfael briefly bowed his head in salutation.  
“Call me Yrdenne. And I am as surprised as you are,” Yrdenne hung her bow over her shoulder and crossed her arms.  
“Aenye who? What? You know each other?”, puzzled, Naisula looked from Cadfael to Yrdenne and back. Cadfael opened his mouth to reply, but Yrdenne was faster.  
“He´s the turnip,” was all Yrdenne said.  
“I am what?”  
“HE?” blurted Naisula and her expression switched from sweet to angry. “What is he even doing here?”  
Cadfael seemed to realize that Naisula knew what he had done. To Yrdenne’s surprise, he dropped his shoulders.  
“Listen, Yrdenne, I know I am probably the least person you want to talk to… but I want to apologize.”  
“What a blatant asshole you are,” hissed Naisula and squared her back, “That you even dare to cross our border!”  
“I know that there is nothing I could say to make amends. And I don´t even ask for forgiveness. We all thought you were one of Idris’ former toys. I did not believe him who you are, and I did not know better… And what you did yesterday, for us and… for Iorveth…” Cadfael ran out of words.  
“WHY is he still talking?” Naisula was raging, “Didn´t you say Iorveth punished him? What did he do, take his candy away?”  
“Naisula…” Yrdenne laid a hand on her friend’s arm. She was not comfortable with Cadfael around, but seeing him grovel before her was sort of satisfying.  
“He broke my nose and my cheekbone, thanks for asking,” there was a ridiculously amusing growl in Cadfael’s voice. Yrdenne’s face lit up, so that explained his face.  
“You can be glad that you are still able to walk! I would have broken your spine,” snarled Naisula, but then, she shrugged, “But you probably don´t have one. Turnip.”  
That was it. Seeing the sweet, adorable Naisula freak out like that killed it, Yrdenne burst out into laughter. It earned her puzzled looks from both Cadfael and Naisula.  
“Naisula, my dear, please…”, Yrdenne said after she calmed down and caught her breath “Let him be.”  
“Thank you…” mumbled Cadfael and crossed his arms in front of his chest.  
“No,” Yrdenne cut him off, her voice cold and harsh again, “No need to thank me. You simply don´t deserve her wrath. I appreciate the apology, but what you did is unforgivable. Even if I was what you thought I were, even if I had a kink for elves, nothing justifies what you did. Nothing. I was defenceless, shattered, injured. You are not more than spineless vermin.”  
Cadfael’s expression darkened and he clenched his jaws. Yrdenne expected him to get angry, to defend himself, but he did nothing like that.  
The elf nodded.  
“I learned from that,” he replied, “And I appreciate you could condone what my comrades and I did to you, yesterday. Since you also condone Iorveth’s war crimes against humans and elves and are so loyal to him, you might be the wiser one of us.”  
Cadfael made an attempt to turn around, but Yrdenne reached for his arm to hold him back.  
“Wait – what do you mean with war crimes?”  
A triumphant chuckle flitted across Cadfael’s face.  
“You know what he did in the war, I assume. You know that all Scoia´tael are branded war criminals?”  
“That´s old tales, and for sure not what you meant,” Yrdenne’s eyes narrowed to slits.  
“In the Battle of Brenna, Iorveth sent a group of his own warriors into certain death. It was a suicide commando. My little brother was among them,” the bitterness in his voice touched Yrdenne. But it was hard to believe him – why would Iorveth do that? She knew he would die for his warriors.  
“We all lost loved ones in that war. I am sorry for your loss, but for sure Iorveth is not accountable.”  
To her surprise, Cadfael shook his head. “Iorveth is not as innocent as you might believe. Keep that in mind.”  
Yrdenne’s heartrate increased. She knew he was not innocent. She had heard the stories, the rumours, the tales. But he would never harm his own people. And why would Cadfael be so loyal when he loathed Iorveth so much? A thought flashed through her mind, a memory.  
“Cadfael, what was your brother’s name?”  
The elf raised his eyebrows.  
“His name was Galthandir. Did you know him?”  
Yrdenne froze in shock, and without missing a beat she growled: “He deserved it.”  
A raging beast in her chest awoke, a beast she had not felt for a long time. Raging ire, like blazing flames. The blazing flames that had taken her family and her home. Cadfael’s expression darkened.  
“What?”  
“I wouldn`t be surprised if Iorveth killed him with his own sword,” she snarled, and with every word, she knew it was true. Iorveth was accountable for the death of Cadfael’s little brother. More than that. “Galthandir lead an attack against my family. My father was a supporter of the Scoia´tael, and yet they came for us. They murdered my family and burnt my home down. Iorveth believed Galthandir killed me. Your brother’s death was my vengeance.”  
Vengeance… the word echoed in Yrdenne’s mind. The beast in her chest still tore at its chains, but its howl was in triumph. Even though she knew that the desire for retribution was dangerous and toxic, a pleasant heat rushed through her body. But the feeling held only until she looked into Cadfael’s face. The truth about his brother tore him apart, and she felt utterly sorry for him.  
“I did not know Iorveth holds a dh’oine higher than his own people,” he snarled through bared teeth. “Let´s hope he doesn´t pay for that, one day.”  
With one pull, he ripped his arm free and stormed away.  
Naisula, who watched the whole scenery, stepped at Yrdenne’s side and wrapped an arm around Yrdenne’s shoulder.  
“Are you all right, my love?”  
Yrdenne still held her head up high. Even though a slight nausea waved though her stomach and her heart fluttered, she did not feel as miserable as she would have only weeks ago.  
“Yes, I am fine.” The beast was finally silent.


	18. Midsommar

The conversation with Cadfael cast a dark shadow upon Yrdenne. During the archery session she was distracted and unfocused. It was difficult to put a finger on it, but something about this elf radiated danger. After what he had told her about Iorveth and his brother, Yrdenne was convinced that it must be him who had drugged Iorveth. And she had been so surprised and so utterly stupid that she told Cadfael the truth about his bastard of a brother.

When Yrdenne did not even manage to hit the target, Naisula decided that it was time to quit. The did not speak much, and Yrdenne followed her friend to the square, lost in thoughts. Tomorrow was Midsommar. The only chance she had to settle things with Iorveth, because Yrdenne was sure when she returned from Aglaïs – if she returned from Aglaïs, and did not set out straight for Mahakam – he and the Dol Blathanna warriors would be gone.   
When they reached the village and Yrdenne wanted to turn on the way to their tent, Naisula suddenly held her back.   
“Yrdenne, we need to get you something to wear for tomorrow!”   
Yrdenne raised an eyebrow.   
“I thought I could just wear one of the dresses I got…”  
From the side, Naisula glanced at her.  
“You are cute,” she chuckled, “But I think we need something more appropriate.” Giggling, she took Yrdenne’s hand and dragged her to the seamstress. 

Once more, Yrdenne was surprised what counted as an appropriate outfit in Brokilon. When Naisula was done picking something for her, she stood in the studio of the seamstress in front of – probably – the only mirror in the settlement and stared at the person that looked back at her. In the mirror, Yrdenne saw a young woman wearing not more than a white shawl with a lace boarder and tassels wrapped around her hips as a knee-long skirt, and a flower crown on her head. Her breasts were only covered by her flowing long hair.  
“You can´t be serious,” murmured Yrdenne and played with the tassels.  
But the broad smile on Naisula’s face told Yrdenne that, yes, she was serious. The seamstress brought a necklace of wooden beads and laid it around Yrdenne’s neck to complete the outfit.  
“Like a real dryad,” the seamstress stated and nodded enthusiastically.  
“No one will wear more than that,” Naisula’s eyes were sparkling. She did not stop to circle Yrdenne and inspected her from every angle. “If Iorveth does not want you, I´ll gladly take his place.”  
Heat rushing into her face and her cheeks tinted in a vibrant and very obvious red.  
“If you say so…” she mumbled and scratched her head.   
After catching a last look into the mirror, Yrdenne changed into her sand-coloured dress again while Naisula went through a pile of other white-ish shawls to pick one for herself. The seamstress winked at Yrdenne, when they left her studio. 

The square of the village was surprisingly busy. Marvelled, Yrdenne watched how the dryads brought firewood – solely broken branches and dead wood they found on the forest ground – while other decorated the trees and stairways with flower garlands. It took her a second view to realize, that the garlands were actually vines and the dryads grew them with unnatural speed.   
Brokilon still had so many secrets, it felt surreal that Yrdenne lived among the dryads for about two weeks already. Or only for two weeks, because the thought of leaving to meet Aglaïs lay heavy on her chest. She loved being here, loved the warmth and the plants and the being among dryads. While they crossed the square to get back to the tent, Yrdenne glanced at Naisula and wondered if there was a chance to return, one day. If there was a chance to meet her friend again. The rest of the day, excitement and anxiety took their turns in Yrdenne’s mind and she had difficulties to find sleep. She knew that this time, she could not leave without bidding farewell, neither Iorveth, nor Naisula. 

The next morning, the Midsommar sun drove the rain and the storm away, and when Yrdenne stepped out of the tent, she marvelled over the glistening reflections of the dew droplets. The whole forest was sparkling. Yrdenne decided to take a swim in the pond, to wash away the exhaustion and the lack of sleep. As so often before, Naisula awaited her with a towel, a mug of steaming hot herbal infusion, and a broad smile on her face when Yrdenne was done washing her body and hair. Wading out of the water, she wondered if this was the last time they spend their morning together like that.   
There was something sad in Naisula’s eyes, that told Yrdenne her friend had similar thoughts.   
“Good morning, and happy Feainn!” After Naisula handed Yrdenne the steaming mug, she used the towel as a plea to embrace her tight.  
“Happy Feainn,” replied Yrdenne and returned the hug with one arm.  
“So, are you excited for the feast? It starts at noon, so we still have some time left to prink ourselves,” Naisula winked, “I will get the brush.” With that, she hurried back into the tent.  
She returned with a brush, a little box with hair ties and pins and the two shawls and flower crowns they got from the seamstress. When Yrdenne’s hair was dry, Naisula brushed and braided it into a complex plaid. Afterwards, she circled Yrdenne and looked her over, nodded in approval of her own work. With a gentle smile on her lips, Naisula planted the flower crown on Yrdenne’s head, kissed her cheek and handed Yrdenne the shawl.  
“You will look breath-taking!” Naisula assured Yrdenne before she quickly slipped out of her nightgown and tied her own shawl around her hips.   
Yrdenne could not deny that Naisula looked breath-taking, but switching her gaze from the dryad to the fabric in her own hand rose an uneasy feeling in her guts.   
“Naisula… I can´t do that.” Yrdenne dropped her shoulders.  
Slightly knitting her brows, Naisula cocked her head and met Yrdenne’s gaze.  
“What? Wearing that?”  
“No… yes, that too. But…” Yrdenne sighed, “I don´t feel comfortable with throwing myself at Iorveth with nothing on my body but a tiny piece of fabric. This,” she lifted the shawl up, “is just not me. I don´t want him to think I am that desperate to get his attention. And I am not sure if I want to attend the feast at all.”  
A soft smile appeared on Naisula’s face and she raised a hand to Yrdenne’s cheeck. “My love, then don´t do it. Maybe I was too excited for some romance, but I see that I was wrong pushing the idea of seducing Iorveth on you. It would be a pity if you skip the feast, though.”  
Yrdenne forced herself to a half-hearted grin.  
“I liked the idea, too. But to be honest… I want him to be happy. He is my family, or at least, he used to be. The thought of spending the night with him, bedding him one more time, sends shivers down my spine,” Yrdenne sighed, “But after all, that would not change anything. I want him to be my partner in life, not my lover.”  
Naisula just nodded. Instead of answering, she let go of Yrdenne and hurried back into the tent. Moments later she returned with a piece of white and silky fabric in her hands.   
“This belonged to my mother. I think it´s actually underwear,” a smirk spread on her face when she unfolded the fabric. “But you can´t tell. It looks like the dresses you like so much. And it does not make you look desperate for attention,” she added with a wink.  
Naisula was right, it really looked like a simple and very plain, though, very short dress. And the fabric was so thin, it was a little see through.   
“It is a… compromise,” replied Yrdenne with raised eyebrows. 

It was a very good compromise, Yrdenne realized a little later. When Naisula and Yrdenne arrived at the square of the village, everyone wore white, and most of the dryads, especially the younger ones, indeed only wore skirt-like shawls and flower necklaces. But the children, their mothers and the older dryads chose white flowing dresses. So, no one would count Yrdenne to the young and wild ones, but she did not stand out too much. To Yrdenne’s pleasant surprise, she spotted three female elves from Iorveth’s unit wearing simple grey or black leggings and fitted white shirts. Probably the clothing they wore underneath their armour. Among them was the red-haired sentinel, who had stood watch in front of Iorveth’s tent in the camp. Instead of flower crowns, they wore coronals made from woven twigs with tiny leaves.  
A stone-throw away, Yrdenne spotted a hand full of male elves who did appreciate the Brokilon dress code for Feainn. They did not wear much more than the young dryads, except that instead of the shawls, they wore knee-long trousers or skirts that reminded Yrdenne of the kilts worn on Skellige. Thinking of what Naisula told her about elvish traditions on Feainn, Yrdenne mused that the males tried to advertise their strength with their bare chests to the dryads who were looking for a mating partner. And with a chuckle, she admitted to herself, that she liked what she saw.  
Yrdenne could not stop to turn around and marvel at the beautiful floral decoration and all the beautiful, bare dressed people. She took her time to look at everything and everyone, and, secretly tried to spot Iorveth in the crown. To her discontent, the first Dol Blathanna elf she bumped into was Cadfael, accompanied by his tall muscle packed black-haired friend. Yrdenne crashed against his bare chest, while she was turning her head for a breathtakingly beautiful dryad with soft-brown skin and round hips.  
“Happy Feainn, little dh’oine,” Cadfael purred when she looked up to him, his lips curled into a cocky smile.   
“Happy Faeinn, Cadfael,” Yrdenne made a step backwards and tried so sound as plain as possible.  
“May your body decay while you are still alive,” Naisula said with a voice as sweet as honey and a lovely smile. The black-haired male could not hide an amused grin and glanced at Cadfael.   
Cadfael cocked his head and raised an eyebrow.   
“I really hope the other dryads are more… welcoming tonight,” he huffed, but then he shrugged his shoulders and picked a loose flower off Yrdenne’s flower crown to pin it behind his pointed ear. “I am looking forward to see you later. Maybe I can coax you into dancing with me.”  
With those words, Cadfael and his friend abandoned the frowning Naisula and a pretty baffled Yrdenne right where they stood.  
“Did he just…?” with knitted brows, Naisula followed the two elves with her gaze.  
But Yrdenne was already watching out for Iorveth again.   
The square was overcrowded with people and there were a lot of bare skin and pointed ears. The people were chatting and laughing, and four dryads played a catchy tune on flutes, drums, and lyre. A group of little dryad girls ran about, chasing each other. Everyone seemed to thoroughly enjoy the day.  
Yrdenne noticed that Naisula became more and more tensed and restless.  
“Are you all right?” she whispered while they strolled around the square. Naisula did not look at Yrdenne. Instead, her gaze flitted from one group of people to another.  
“I... yes, I am,” Naisula mumbled, “There is another clearing, maybe with less people. Shall we go there?” Without waiting for an answer, Naisula took Yrdenne’s hand and drew her away from the people and the noises.   
The clearing Naisula mentioned was close by, and they still heard the crowd from the main square. But the sound was much quieter, and only a few people sat on the soft moss in circles and talked. Under one of the big trees, Yrdenne and Naisula spotted Kasi, Ceit and the other sentinels from their unit.   
Iorveth was still now where to be seen, so Yrdenne decided to sit with her new sisters and enjoy the day. Maybe there was a chance to search for him later.

It turned out that she did not had to search for him. In the late afternoon, a group of Dol Blathanna elves accompanied by half a dozen giggling dryads found their way to the clearing. Among them, Cadfael and his black-haired friend, the red-haired sentinel and – to Yrdenne’s excitement - Iorveth. When she saw him, her heart skipped a beat. And she took a deep breath when she noticed, that he wore trousers and a white shirt and was not half naked. A part of his dark brown hair was tied back, while the rest lay on his shoulders. He did not wear anything to cover his bad eye and a brief smile flitted across his face, when he met her gaze. Yrdenne blushed and hastily brushed a strand of hair out of her face.   
The elves gathered under a tree across the clearing, Iorveth leant against the stem with arms crossed in front of his chest. He did not seem to be overly excited about Feainn, but it appeared to Yrdenne that he stole glances at her from time to time.   
Naisula sent Yrdenne a knowing grin.   
“Maybe he comes over when you are alone,” she mused.  
“Who comes over?” Kasi cocked her head and looked from Yrdenne to Naisula.  
“The reason why Yrdenne ran into battle”, Naisula explained with a wink, and Kasi and the others smirked.   
“I see,” Kasi nodded her head, “Maybe it´s time for us to have a look at the fire on the square, grab some food, and Naisula and Yrdenne stay to save our spot?”  
“Excuse me? Can we stop behaving like teenagers, please?” appalled, Yrdenne looked from one of her friends to another. But Kasi did not care and already stood up.  
“You two just stay here, we will be back with some food, soon,” Kasi said way too loud with a way to wide grin on her face. Ceit and the others followed her on the step.  
“Great,” mumbled Yrdenne and buried her face in her palm for a moment, she did not dare to turn her head to look if the elves noticed them.   
It turned out, they had, and the reaction followed some instants later. To both Yrdenne’s and Naisula’s disappointment, it was not Iorveth who came over.  
“Oh, deer shit…”, mumbled Naisula and frowned. “Cadfael.”  
Yrdenne rolled her eyes and quickly stood up, so he had no chance to sit down with them and get too comfortable.  
“What do you want?” she asked when Cadfael reached them and crossed her arms in front of her chest.  
“Hello lovely,” Cadfael purred with a sneaky smile, “Sorry to disappoint you, I am not here for you, in the first place.”  
He turned to Naisula, who was about to get up, too.  
“My dear friend over there would like to have a chat with you,” he told Naisula and pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. Naisula’s eyes narrowed to slits, but widened eventually, when she saw that with friend he did not mean the black-haired brute, but Iorveth’s red-haired sentinel. The female stood some steps away from the group and waved, when Naisula looked at her.  
“Oh,” Naisula bit her lip, “I guess I will just briefly hop over and hear what she wants.” And before Yrdenne could protest, Naisula left her alone with Cadfael.  
Cadfael took the chance and made a step towards Yrdenne, who stood almost with her back against the tree.  
“Now, it´s just us left here,” Cadfael sighed. There was a cheeky sparkle in his brown eyes. He still wore the flower from Yrdenne’s flower crown behind his ear.  
“Oh, don´t feel obliged to keep me company,” Yrdenne replied, she could not help but look him over, now that he was so close. Damn the gods, he was extremely well built and even for Aen Seidhe standards he was insanely beautiful. She hated herself for the thought.  
“What if you are exactly the company I was hoping for?” his expression softened and his smirk turned into a gentle smile. Yrdenne’s heartrate increased. Was this bastard seriously hitting on her?  
“You are aware that I am still a dh’oine, aren´t you?” she asked and started to fumble at a small braid that fell on her chest.  
Cadfael leant forward and bought his face closer to hers.  
“Very well aware.” With his index, he traced the strap of her dress. “You look stunning in this.”  
“Um… thanks.” Yrdenne could not fight the blushing, but she made a step backwards until she felt the rough bark of the tree pushing against her back.   
“I am also aware you were probably hoping for someone else…” Cadfael murmured, “But I think if you give me a chance, I could make amends for what I did to you in the camp. I can´t rule out that you will moan again, but I can promise you, you will enjoy every single moment with me.”  
Even though she knew that consent was something sacred for the Aen Seidhe, Yrdenne froze and was unable to reply. By the gods, she was unable to make her mind if she found his offer awful or reasonable.  
Someone else took the decision off her hands. A strong arm darted between them and pushed Cadfael backwards.  
“Don´t dare to touch her,” Iorveth said calmly. The furious glare he gave Cadfael was enough of a warning.  
“I though that´s her decision,” Cadfael replied and squared his back.   
Iorveth only raised his eyebrows and Cadfael clenched his jaws and retracted without another word, but not without looking over his shoulder and sending Yrdenne a last wink.  
“Are you all right?” Iorveth asked as he turned to her.  
“Yes…” she mumbled, still following Cadfael with her gaze, “I think so.”  
Frowning, Iorveth followed her look.  
“You did not really… consider him for tonight…?”  
Open mouthed, Yrdenne met Iorveth’s gaze.  
“Why? Would that bother you?”, she huffed, “At least he would not complain if I kissed him, fucked him and left when I got tired of him.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest again and cocked her head.   
“I said that to you,” Iorveth supposed, and he cringed slightly when Yrdenne nodded.  
“Yrdenne, I don´t want to shower you in apologies. But there is one thing I need you to know. One thing that explains what drove me that night in the camp” – “Please, don´t,” Yrdenne cut him off. She already knew what he was going to say, and she was sure she could not handle hearing it from him.  
“I understand,” with clenched jaws, he made attempt to turn away and leave, but Yrdenne reached for his wrist.  
“Iorveth, wait.” Her heart was in her mouth and the swirl of butterflies in her chest made it difficult to think. She only knew that if he left now, there would not be another chance to talk to him.  
Fortunately, Iorveth changed his mind and stayed. Curiously, he met her gaze.  
Yrdenne fought against a loud sigh when he looked at her like that. How she loved the moss green of his eye.  
“Do you…. Want to talk a walk with me?” she asked right away.   
“A walk? Now?” Iorveth was puzzled. Yrdenne let go of his wrist and clawed at the seam of her dress.   
“Yes, now. Just… the two of us. Wherever you want to go,” she murmured and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. For a moment she looked about, but forced herself to meet his gaze again. “You can leave if you grow weary of me.”  
Finally, his lips curled into a light smile. He understood that she wanted to be alone with him.  
“How could I?” He offered her his hand. “Shall I show you my favourite place in Brokilon? It´s not too far from here.”  
Relieved, Yrdenne laid her hand in his and returned the smile. “Sounds wonderful.”

A storm of endorphins rushed through her veins when Iorveth lead her away from the village. Even after they were out of Cadfael’s sight, who watched them with knitted brows, Iorveth did not let go of her hand. He took her into the forest, off the path, where the soft moss tickled their feet. The wildlife seemed to be as thrilled about Midsommar as the dryads were, and the birds and bees were even busier than usually. Squirrels chased each other through the branches of the trees and a stone throw away grazed a deer herd.  
“How are you?” Iorveth asked after a while, “I mean, after the battle and all…”  
“I am fine, so far,” Yrdenne glanced at him, “And you?”  
The dark shadows under his eyes did not go unnoticed, and even though he looked better than after the battle, she could see how exhausted he was, not only physically.  
Iorveth hesitated to reply. He stopped and waited until Yrdenne halted and met his gaze.  
“I am better than before but…” he took a deep breath, “I don´t like how things are between… us.”  
“Me neither.” Yrdenne’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. “But for today, I want to make a… proposal.”  
Iorveth raised his eyebrows. “Go ahead.”  
“I feel like talking about things that… were, or things that we´ve done will not lead anywhere. As much as I want to settle things with you, I don´t believe that today is the right time,” Yrdenne begun, “Iorveth, I will leave tomorrow. And I don´t know when I come back here, of if. For sure, not before you return to the camp. And those conversations are so… draining.” Her palms begun to sweat and she had the urge to pull her hand back, but she was too scared he could misinterpret the gesture. And she liked to hold his hand too much.  
“So, this is a farewell?” He did not even try to hide his disappointment, but Yrdenne quickly shock her head.  
“I want to spend time with you. And I want to use this time to make memories. Good memories, for darker times,” she waited a moment to let the words sink in, before she continued, “Can we ignore that five years since we parted? Can we pretend we are still friends, and everything is good between us, like it was in Novigrad? Just for Feainn.”  
With wide eyes, she looked at Iorveth and waited for a response.   
Silently, he returned the look, scanned her face and, briefly, but not unnoticed by Yrdenne, ran his gaze over her body, the tattoo, her braided hair and the flower crown, before he returned to her eyes.   
“This is an… interesting idea,” he said, “But there is no need to pretend we are still friends.” A smile flitted across his face. “You are my friend. More than that, sor’ca. And you will always be, no matter what.”  
The love Yrdenne felt in her chest was overwhelming. She did not think twice and crashed against him, her arms tightly wrapped around his waist.   
Gently, Iorveth embraced her and kissed the top of her head.   
“I hope this doesn´t mean you doubted that, even for a minute,” he murmured against her hair.  
Being so close to him almost felt like being home. So, Yrdenne took her time to enjoy Iorveth’s touch and warmth and inhaled his scent, he still smelled like fir trees and leather and lavender. She had missed that. When she finally pulled back and met his gaze again, she knew whatever stood between them was gone. At least for now.  
“So, no questions asked and no explanations owed,” Yrdenne said with a low voice, and when Iorveth nodded, she smiled at him.  
As if a shadow was lifted from her soul, Yrdenne found the forest around her to be even brighter. She took his hand again and they continued their walk, to wherever Iorveth wanted to take her.

“So… I heard you are a well-known guest in Brokilon,” Yrdenne said after a while, “When I was a child, you sometimes told me about dryads, but I did not know how often you visited this forest.”  
“My friend Coinneach took me here the first time, he fell in love with a dryad once,” Iorveth chuckled, “I am sure Naisula told you about him. He is the only one I know who had such a strong relationship to his offspring in Brokilon. I did not understand why, until I met you.”  
Yrdenne’s heart skipped a beat. “Why?”  
“Because I realized how it was to care about someone. How it was to be responsible.” Iorveth squeezed her hand.  
“The life debt. I see.” The thought that their relationship begun because Iorveth was obliged to take care of her was still something that cast a shadow upon her soul.  
“Please, forget about this stupid life debt,” said Iorveth, and his voice was so gentle that a warm shiver ran down Yrdenne’s spine. “If I had really obeyed to that law, I would have taken you away from your family, how I was supposed to. Someone even suggested to bring you to Brokilon to make you a dryad. Everything between us happened because I chose to do it, from the start.”   
His words caressed Yrdenne’s broken heart. She knew that he had chosen her back then, but she wondered if he would make that choice again.  
Iorveth glanced down at her with a smile on his lips.  
“They were right, you make a great dryad. I did not believe my eyes when I saw you on that battlefield. And to see you with Naisula and the others… almost like you belong here.”  
Yrdenne blushed, but she shook her head.  
“I have yet to find the place where I belong, but it´s not here.” She met his gaze. She might not know where she belonged, but more than ever she knew to whom. “Where are we going, by the way?”  
“We are almost there.”


	19. The Magnolia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware, sexual content ;)  
> It´s getting hot in here...

Yrdenne begun to recognize some of the trees around them. She had been here before and she got an inkling where Iorveth took her. The trees in this part of the forest were older than those around the village, for their bark was furrowed with deep grooves, like wrinkled skin. The trunks begun to bend under the heavy weight of their crowns and the branches of the trees were crooked and gnarled.  
It was impossible to make out a path, since the whole forest ground was covered by thick and squishy moss, only broken up by feathering ferns. Yrdenne enjoyed the feeling of her feet sinking into the plants to her ankles with every step, but when she turned around, her previous steps left no traces.  
When Yrdenne saw the clearing with the marvellous tree covered in huge pale pink blossoms, a smile spread on her face.   
“There we are,” Iorveth said and pointed at the blooming tree, “This is the Old Magnolia, one of the oldest trees in Brokilon – and to me, the most beautiful.”  
A magnolia! That´s why the tree seemed so familiar when Yrdenne saw him for the first time. It was a huge version of the magnolia tree in the Botanical Garden of the Academy in Oxenfurt. The magnolia in Oxenfurt was tiny in comparison, and Yrdenne remembered that it bloomed only a few weeks in spring.   
“But… it´s summer. Why is it still in full bloom?” she asked and, slowly, walked towards the ancient tree. Iorveth stayed by her side and with a chuckle on his lips he watched how she adored the beautiful blossoms. Coming closer, Yrdenne recognized that the tree was much older than she had guessed at first. The stem was larger than those of an old oak and the branches were hanging towards the ground, almost like a willow tree.

“Stories say, that it was a secret gift from one of the first human woman who found shelter in Brokilon,” Iorveth begun to explain, “She was brought from a country far Eastern to marry the son of a King, for political reasons. But she did not love this prince and managed to escape her fate. Some dryads found her and took her to their forest. Unfortunately, on her flight, the woman had been injured. She died shortly after her arrival in the forest that would later become Brokilon. One year after they buried her, a tree begun to grow on her grave. The dryads assume, the seeds had been hidden in the pockets of her clothes. Another year later, on the day of her death, the first bud opened – and the tree is blooming ever since.”  
“What a beautiful story,” Yrdenne murmured. They were close enough to touch the blossoms, and Yrdenne raised her hand to run the tip of her index along the edge of a petal. Through the branches Yrdenne saw that the space behind the hanging branches was larger than she expected, like the magnolia had grown into a living tent, or cottage. Carefully, Iorveth bend a branch aside, so they could enter this half-hidden space and Yrdenne was excited to have a closer look at the structure of the tree. The stem split into a few very thick branches, each of them almost trees of their own, that created a sprawling canopy of leaves and blossoms. The space underneath the tree was a welcoming place to spend some time.  
Like the woman had found shelter in Brokilon, the mangolia became a shelter itself.

“When we camped in Brokilon during the war, I often came here when I wanted to hide from the world and be on my own,” Iorveth admitted, “After I escaped the Drakenborg, I went to Brokilon to tell Naisula’s mother of Coinneach’s death, but I guess, I also tried to find healing for myself… I spend a lot of time underneath these blossoms.” Yrdenne understood. Iorveth had been here when was grieving for the fallen, for her family and for her. With a sigh, she leant against a branch and met Iorveth’s gaze. The shadows of the blossoms and twigs painted patterns on his clothes and his skin.   
“I really hope you found what you were searching for,” she whispered and took both his hands in hers.  
Her heart was fluttering, just because of how he looked at her.  
“I think so, yes”, and with a chuckle he added, “And I figured it´s a good place to make good memories.”  
Yrdenne returned the smile.  
“Believe it or not, but I have some good memories from Novigrad, too. You made the time in the headquarters bearable, and I often think of our fighting lessons.”  
A huffed laughter escaped Iorveth’s lips and he shook his head.  
“Well, I guess with the right company you can make good memories anywhere.”  
“Don’t you have a favourite memory from Novigrad?” she asked right away.  
Iorveth cocked his head and stared at something in the distance behind her.  
“I often think about our hunting trip,” he mused, “And I would lie if I said I did not enjoy all the nights you slept in my arms.” His words sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. Iorveth met her gaze again.  
“But… Yrdenne, we weren´t just friends in Novigrad,” he continued, and his expression became stern. “I remember fighting against that feeling for way too long, but in the prison cell, I realized what you meant to me. My most precious memory is a very certain night…”   
Yrdenne’s heart skipped a beat and warm tickle spread through her body.

“Do we ignore what happened in the past five years to the point that I am allowed to kiss you?” Iorveth’s voice was so soft and full of love that Yrdenne thought her heart would burst. Wide-eyed, she stared at him and did not know what to reply.   
“Sorry, if I went too far…” – “Yes,” Yrdenne breathed, “yes, you are allowed to kiss me.”  
Iorveth did not waste a breath to cup her face with his hands and press his lips on hers. His kiss was shy and utterly careful. Yrdenne wrapped her arms around his neck, dug her hands into his hair and drew him closer. Her heartrate increased when he made a step towards her, bought their bodies closer together and she sensed his warmth through the fabric of their clothes.   
It took forever and only an instant, until he released her lips and pulled back. Marvelled, he looked at her and, slowly, ran his hands down her neck, grazed her breasts and rested them on her hips.  
“I missed this,” he whispered, “I missed you.”  
When Iorveth kissed her again, Yrdenne’s knees became weak and she sunk against him, craving to feel his body against hers. But to her surprise, it was as if Iorveth slightly moved away from her. And his kiss was loving, but cautious and in a weird way distanced.   
Eventually, Yrdenne pulled back, laid a hand on Iorveth’s chest and met his gaze.  
“Iorveth, if you are uncomfortable…. If you feel guilty, we don´t have to…” Yrdenne cursed herself for this, “We can go back, if you don´t want this.”  
“How could I not want this?” Iorveth murmured and leant his brow against hers, “I just… I don´t want to push you into something you might regret.”  
“Iorveth, I want you,” Yrdenne kissed him briefly, “How could I regret something that feels so right?” Her heart was pounding and a storm of endorphins rushed through her veins.   
“Say it again,” Iorveth’s voice was rough.  
Yrdenne brought her lips to his ear, her hand clawed into his hair.   
“I want you,” she breathed, “All of you.”  
And whatever held him back vanished.

Ravenous, Iorveth pressed his mouth on hers. His tongue parted her lips and caressed hers, while his hand found its way to her breasts. An instant, Yrdenne regretted that she did not wear the tiny shawl, because even the thin silk between his hand and her skin was too much fabric. Pulsing heat rose between her legs, so she reached for Iorveth’s hand and guided it under the skirt of her dress. She laid his hand on the inside of her thigh, an invitation to go further.   
Iorveth understood.  
Gently, he ran his hand up and down on her soft skin and Yrdenne moaned when he finally decided to slip into her underpants. Iorveth growled in approval when his fingers found the damp wetness at the apex of her thighs.   
While he explored her body, Yrdenne begun to open his trousers.  
“Are you sure?” he mumbled against her lips before he continued to kiss her.  
As a reply, Yrdenne freed his considerable length and caressed him with both hands. Another approving growl, and Iorveth slid his other hand under her dress and pulled her underpants down.  
For an instant he released her lips to meet her gaze.   
The way he looked at her send pleasant shivers down her spine. There was something wild in his gaze, something untamed that had not been there before.   
As if she weighed nothing, he picked her up, and Yrdenne wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck. Iorveth pushed her back against the tree and while Yrdenne sunk into another kiss, he also sunk into her, oh so slowly.   
The sensation of him inside her was overwhelming and her rising arousal drove her out of her mind. Pulsing heat spread from her loins through her whole body and while the world around her became blurry and faded, Iorveth was pin sharp.   
At first, he was gentle and soft with her, paused the kisses so she could catch her breath. Yrdenne trembled in lust, she joined the rhythm of this thrusts and tried to open up for him as good as possible. She wanted him with every fibre of her body, and with every touch of him, every kiss, she wanted him even more. Iorveth read her like an open book. He knew what he was doing when he begun to kiss his way to her neck and to her ear, and he knew what he was doing with every movement of his body.   
When Yrdenne bought her lips to his ear, grazed his earlobe with her teeth, bit him gently and licked along the helix, Iorveth lost it. The feral part of him, the wildness she had seen in his eyes, took over, and he gave in to it.  
He took her against the tree with a craving despair, and even though his grip at her thighs got tighter and he got rough, it was exactly what they needed. Yrdenne felt how he treasured her, how he worshipped her body. Iorveth allowed himself to lose control, he submitted to this primeval core and gave all of himself to her.   
She failed to withstand this feeling for any longer. A quiver shook her body when she climaxed, and the pulsing of her muscles dragged Iorveth over the edge with her. For a brief moment, they became the blazing core of a new-born star.

Iorveth held her tight against him, when he tried to catch his breath. The gasps for air only broken by soft and gentle kisses. Yrdenne loosened her legs off his hips, and Iorveth sunk to his knees before her feet reached the ground. He laid her down into the soft moss underneath the tree and plunged down next to her.   
Yrdenne’s chest was heaving. For a moment, the flowers above her head looked like a green night sky with pale pink stars. Iorveth reached for her hand, fingers intertwined, and squeezed it slightly. When Yrdenne turned her head to the side, he was looking at her.  
“Are you all right?” he asked with a soft voice. Yrdenne nodded and her lips curled into a smile.  
“Were you thinking of that, when you spoke about making memories?” Iorveth chuckled and his eye was sparkling. She had not seen him so light-hearted since they met again.  
“A rather short memory,” Yrdenne replied with a smirk and nudged his arm.  
“Well, that´s not my fault….” He let go off her hand and propped himself up on one elbow. “And I never said I am done with you yet.” The tickling heat between her thighs flared up when he leant down to kiss her and simply laid his hand on her stomach.  
Yrdenne returned the kiss, but when his hand slid downwards, Yrdenne laid a hand on Iorveth’s chest and gently pushed him away.  
“Please, I need a break,” she gasped with rosy cheeks, “My head is still spinning.”  
So Iorveth kissed her brow and pulled his hand back.  
“Whatever you need. We have plenty of time.”  
This last sentence clenched Yrdenne’s heart, because it reminded her that they did not. This day was unlasting. She fought the dark thoughts away that crept up from a distant corner of her mind. While Iorveth tucked himself back into his trousers, Yrdenne fixed her dress to cover herself, at least a little.   
“Maybe we should boost our energy with some food?” Iorveth suggested, “I want to savour every minute with you tonight…” There was it again, the feral glow in his gaze.  
“I can´t wait to learn more about the Aen Seidhe Feainn traditions.” Yrdenne bit her lip. This gods damned elf made her feel like a teenager, and his kisses brushed away every doubt she might have had.  
“To be honest, this is the first time in decades that I am with someone on Feainn,” he admitted, “I guess regarding that I am a little… different.” His tone made clear that with that, he meant the promiscuity of his people. Yrdenne shifted to her side, tucked her arm behind her head, and with the other hand she brushed a loose strand of hair behind Iorveth’s ear. A smile flitted across his face and he shivered slightly, when her fingers grazed his ear.

“Do you want to tell me what you mean with different?” she asked.  
Iorveth hesitated, he laid down on his back again, crossed his arms behind is head and stared at the flowers above their heads.  
“When I was young, I was really excited for my first Belleteyn. We all knew what happened there, and I could not wait to be allowed to join the festival,” he inhaled deeply before he continued, “It was rather disappointing, because I could not find someone I wanted to bed, that night. The same happened on Feainn a few weeks later, and on both Holidays in the following year, and the year after. At first, I thought something was wrong with me, but I figured that I simply wasn´t attracted to anyone.”   
Yrdenne was unsure what to reply, so she decided to simply listen to his story.  
“At some point, I would go with the first person who asked me. Those nights were mediocre at best. You can imagine how it hit me when I – excuse the wording – desperately wanted to fuck someone for the first time. It took me years to understand that I only experience sexual attraction to people I share a deep emotional bond with. It takes a lot of trust and deep affection until I even consider kissing someone.”  
Yrdenne’s throat bobbed. Did he know that every of his words was a like glowing hot needle into her heart? If this was true, then the pregnant woman in Dol Blathanna was more than just a drunken accident. The thought alone grew so heavy on her chest that it was hard to breathe.  
No explanations owed, no questions asked, she repeated in her head. She did not want to ruin this. Now, he chose to be here with her. She would figure this out another day. But this woman…  
It was Iorveth who reached out for her hand and held it tight. His voice brought her back and calmed her down as he spoke on.  
“That´s the reason why I was such an idiot that night in the cabin, after we were hunting. This day – and especially the night is so important to me, because I realized that I started to fall in love with you. By the gods,” he sighed, “I remember exactly how I felt when I saw you in your underwear and wanted to rip that stupid shirt into shreds… And I was so utterly scared of these feelings. Not only because you are human, but because you are you. You are so precious and I… only brought pain into your life.” His throat bobbed and there was a hoarse rasp in his voice. “And everything I love is taken away from me.”  
Iorveth’s story shattered the very core of her soul.  
“Iorveth… nothing and no one can take away what we have,” Yrdenne’s voice cracked and she fought against the tears. “No matter what was, and no matter where we will go tomorrow, the bond between us will persist.” They both knew that her words were a promise, a vow.  
Finally, Iorveth looked at her again. “It will persist, and it grows stronger.”  
They stayed under the magnolia tree for a while, lying next to each other in silence. It would take some time to process what happened, and what Iorveth had told Yrdenne. But with every cell of her heart she knew it was right, no matter what. Iorveth restored her trust in him, in them. They would figure things out, and Yrdenne was determined that she would not give him up so easily, this time.  
A low growling in her stomach reminded her that, at some point, Iorveth mentioned food.  
“Shall we go back and eat something?” she asked and sat up.   
“Splendid idea,” Iorveth nodded followed her example. He stood up and was about to help her up, when a huffed laughter escaped his lips. “Your underwear is over there,” he pointed to their left, “and your flower crown next to the stem.”  
“Oh dear,” mumbled Yrdenne and scratched her head. Witch a chuckle on his lips, Iorveth picked her crown up and patiently waited until she was decently dressed again, before he put it on her head.  
“How do I look?” she asked with a crinkled nose. A wide grin spread on Iorveth’s face.  
“Like someone took you against a tree and you enjoyed it a lot.”  
Yrdenne could not help but smile while she shook her head.  
“Don´t get cocky, mister elf.”

On the way back to the village, Iorveth held her hand again and whenever he glanced at Yrdenne, a whirl of butterflies tumbled through her chest. She did not care what the others would think when they returned to the feast, at least for today, he was hers and she was his and it would not bother her if the whole world saw it. When they reached the small clearing, Yrdenne realized that she totally lost track of time. She was surprised to find Naisula still deeply engaged in a conversation with the red-haired sentinel, aside from the others. Kasi and the dryads were back and sat together with some elves, including Cadfael.   
He was the first to notice Yrdenne and Iorveth, and watched them passing by with raised eyebrows. Iorveth cared as much as he squared his back and sent Cadfael a warning glare before they left the clearing towards the main square. 

Music waved through the air, of drums and flutes and lyres, and it got louder the closer they came. Yrdenne sensed the drum beat with her whole body, and her heartrate increased. Even though the sunset was hours away, it was darkening and the Feainn fire was burning. The dryads danced around the fire like in trance, spinning, twisting, whirling, and their almost naked bodies glossy from sweat. It took some effort to not stare at them in awe.  
Iorveth laid his arm around Yrdenne’s shoulder and drew her closer.  
“You know, it´s Feainn…” he murmured against her hair, “If there is anything you want to try, don´t let me stop you.”  
With a cheeky smile, Yrdenne turned to him and pressed her body against his. On tiptoes, she brought her lips to his ear. “My underpants are still soaked in your wetness. I´d rather like you to fix that before I throw myself in a roundelay.”  
A throaty growl was his only response and Yrdenne took the chance to bite his earlobe before she let go of him. Iorveth, however, did not let go of her when she started to move through the crowd towards the food. His hand grasped at hers, as if he was scared to lose her.  
Several huge trunks of fallen trees on the outer edges of the square served as tables and were covered with earthen bowls and plates full of food. There were a variety of fruits, roasted vegetables and different kinds of baked goods. Even though Yrdenne was psyched up and her hunger began to vanish, the food smelled too delicious. So she tried a little from every dish, only when she reached out for some strawberry-sized red fruits glazed in herbs and honey, Iorveth held her back.  
“These are called love apples for a reason,” he whispered and met her gaze, “They can have quite… euphorigenic effects.”  
“You mean, if I eat those now we should leave to a quieter place soon?” Yrdenne’s lips curled into a smile.  
“Exactly,” Iorveth fished one of the fruits out of the bowl and brought it to her mouth. Yrdenne closed her eyes and let him feed her, only to sense his lips on hers right after she devoured the fruit. His kiss was brief, but demanding.  
“Shall we leave?” Iorveth asked and ran his hand down her waist.  
Yrdenne nodded, but when she squeezed herself past him into the direction to Naisula’s tent, she made sure her butt grazed his crotch. Iorveth hissed a curse in Elder Speech and pushed her to walk faster.

A few steps before they reached the junction to Naisula’s tent, Iorveth noticed that someone called for him. Yrdenne was not entirely surprised to see Cadfael following them when she looked over her shoulder. Iorveth stopped, turned immediately and squared his back. He let go of Yrdenne’s hand, but laid it on her back to let her know he would not leave her side. Cadfael stormed towards them and stopped only an arm length away.  
“Hej Cadfael,” Iorveth sounded almost bored, “Can we help you?”  
“Hej,” there was a growl in Cadfael’s voice, “I just wanted to see if Yrdenne is still happy with her choice.”  
With a gentle smile on her lips, Yrdenne looked at Iorveth. “Yes. Very happy. Nothing to complain about yet.”   
Iorveth chuckled, but Cadfael huffed and shock his head.  
“I really hope you know what you are doing,” he said and sounded almost soft. His expression darkened again when he turned to Iorveth. “I´ve taken the liberty of preventing you ruin another life with your Scoia´tael carelessness. Hope you don’t mind.”  
Yrdenne’s heart skipped a beat. What did Cadfael do to Iorveth? With knitted brows, her gaze switched between the elves.  
“Yeah, I noticed it this morning,” Iorveth replied, and now there was a snarl in his voice, too. “I guess I have to thank you for that. Anything else?”  
With a smirk Cadfael met Yrdenne’s gaze. “A kiss would be nice, as consolation that we had no chance to dance.”  
Iorveth took a deep breath and glanced at Yrdenne. “Shall I take care?” he whispered.  
Helpless, Yrdenne shrugged her shoulders. She just wanted to be alone with Iorveth and was tired of Cadfael’s unreasonable games. But the way Iorveth took care of him was utterly unexpected.  
Iorveth closed the gap between him and Cadfael, grabbed the hair at the back of his head and – kissed him. Dominating and aggressive, but somehow gentle. At first Cadfael’s eyes widened and he raised a hand, but an instant later he closed his eyes and dropped his shoulders. He gave in.  
Yrdenne stared at them open mouthed and did not know what to do.  
As fast as it happened, Iorveth let go of Cadfael, slightly pushed him away and turned to Yrdenne.  
“Let´s get away from here,” he mumbled and nudged her to follow him.  
Still baffled, Yrdenne reached for his hand and they left Cadfael behind. When they turned into the narrow trail that lead to Naisula’s clearing, Yrdenne risked a glance over her shoulder and was surprised to see Cadfael still standing in the middle of the path, staring at them bewildered.  
He noticed Yrdenne’s look and bore his teeth.  
“Fuck you, Iorveth!” Cadfael’s roar cut through the silence around them.


	20. A Sacred Night

Yrdenne’s heart was in her mouth and countless thoughts somersaulted in her head.  
“I am sorry you had to see this,” Iorveth’s voice was clear and honest, “I am sorry I had to do this, but I could not stand that he tried pushing you to kiss him.”  
For a moment, the forest around them appeared blurry and Yrdenne briefly shock her head to clear her mind.  
“I know we agreed about ditching owed explanations… but Iorveth,” she took a deep breath, “Explain this.” Iorveth opened his mouth and Yrdenne added quickly, “From the start.”  
Iorveth nodded, “First I need to know if I hurt you?”  
While they slowed down their pace, Yrdenne looked at the ground and listened to her inner voice? Was she hurt? Or jealous?  
“I am… confused and a little upset. But not hurt. Though,” she glanced at Iorveth, “I think Cadfael is, and I don´t understand why.” Cadfael was a violent bastard, but in a weird way she felt sorry for him.  
Finally, Iorveth dropped his shoulders, he ran his hand through his hair and slightly shook his head.  
“He is. I will talk to him, tomorrow. You remember when I told you he hates me with passion? And he despises the Scoia´tael? It´s a little more… complicated I guess.”  
“The last time I saw you being so… mean was in Novigrad, towards Dalayer.” The memory sent a shiver down her spine, but not of the pleasant kind.  
“Did I ruin tonight?” Gently, he stroked her back, erasing the shiver he could not know about, and released a vortex of butterflies in her chest followed by a tingle that spread into the tips of her fingers and toes.  
Yrdenne sighed. “No, you didn´t. We’ll figure this out.”

Eventually, they reached the clearing. Yrdenne got a calabash with berry juice and her bedroll from the tent so they had something to sit on, meanwhile Iorveth built a little bonfire next to the pond. When the flames started to crackle, they sat down on the bedroll and met each other’s gaze.  
“It´s your turn,” Yrdenne insisted and cocked her head, “What did he do to you? And whose life did you ruin?” The question left a stale taste on her tongue.  
“In the morning, I usually sit together with my warriors. We drink herbal tea and discuss the upcoming day. Duty, plans, approaches,” Iorveth begun, “Cadfael is responsible to prepare the tea. Today and also yesterday, mine tasted a little off.” The exhaustion Yrdenne had seen in him the days before was back.  
“He drugged you – again?” Yrdenne was baffled.  
But Iorveth shock his head. “I can assure you, it wasn´t him who drugged me in the camp. But since we arrived in Brokilon he… put a contraceptive potion in my mug.”  
“What the actual-” Now she understood what Cadfael meant with ruining a life… He did not want Iorveth to impregnate her. Anger rose in her chest, and despair, and another part of her wanted to laugh hysterically, because she was infertile anyway. Yrdenne struggled to pull herself together. “But why?” she rasped.  
“Decades ago, Cadfael and I were close friends. Even before I met Faoiltiarna or Eardreth. After my parents died, Cadfael did not take it well that I moved in with Fao, and not with him and his brother. But even though we argued a lot, we stayed very close for a long time. At some point, our arguments would end in bed, and we became lovers ins some way. It worked out until Seregthiel, Idris and the others arrived in the village.”  
Yrdenne did not need any other word from Iorveth to understand what Cadfael had been through. She knew about Iorveth`s past with Seregthiel.  
“You broke his heart?”  
Iorveth’s throat bobbed and Yrdenne sensed the guilt that crept up in his chest. “It crushed him. I was young and hot-headed and did not handle it well. And then, his little brother, whom he loved more than anything, followed me and Fao to war.”  
“And died. Cadfael told me about Galthandir.” Yrdenne shuddered. Truly, Cadfael was a complacent idiot, but she felt his pain, intertwining with her own. Iorveth’s narration turned into a heavy weight on her chest.  
“You can imagine his excitement when I returned to Dol Blathanna and became his general,” Iorveth added, he did not even try to hide his bitterness. “The hostility from him was bearable, but since you appeared, he went postal.”  
“But… what has this to do with me? Or us? Is he still craving for revenge?”  
“I am not sure; we did not speak after I had a word with him for burning you.” Lost in thoughts, Iorveth ran the fingers of his left over the knuckled of his right hand. “From what others told me, he can barely handle what he did to you since he learned who you are… When you came to our aid and saved me, he realized how much I might truly mean to you. Maybe he sees himself in you. I think he wants to protect you, in his very weird way.” A snarl rose in Iorveth’s voice.  
Suddenly, Cadfael’s behaviour made sense to Yrdenne. His words echoed in her mind.  
Iorveth is not as innocent as you might believe. Keep that in mind.  
“Iorveth, kissing him was cruel.”  
“He is a grown adult and almost a hundred years old! I see that he has his issues with me, but I want him to stay the fuck away from you! He burnt you, and now he bothers you with this horse shit that should have been settled decades ago. Decades, Yrdenne! And I did not even love him a hundredth of how much I love you!”  
Iorveth almost screamed the last words, and the world around Yrdenne went silent, except for the pounding heart in her chest.  
“And I keep on losing you. Again, and again. So I know how he feels. And still, the only thing I want is you being safe. I only want you to find a peaceful, happy life, even if that means it´s a life without me.”  
Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, Yrdenne stared at Iorveth. She could not ignore the tears in his eye, and his despair shattered her. Finally, she saw that he was as hurt and lost as she was, he did not move on, he did not get over her. He loved her.  
“Iorveth, can we stop this?” Yrdenne whispered with a hoarse voice. She was unable to bear this conversation any instant longer.  
He clenched his jaws and his expression darkened.  
“Do you want me to leave?”  
“No…” Yrdenne’s throat bobbed, “I want you to stop talking about Cadfael. Or what we can´t have.”  
Puzzled, Iorveth knitted his brows, but Yrdenne continued to speak.  
“I will leave tomorrow, and there is nothing in the world that can hold me back. If you don´t consider going with me – and I know you can´t – it´s pointless to argue if we can have a life together or not. It´s pointless to drown ourselves in pity about the odds we can´t change,” Yrdenne took a deep breath, “Iorveth, I don´t want to spend any more time on arguments or problems we will not solve tonight. I want to use this night to actually be together. We don´t have much time left.”  
Before he could reply, she stood up and pulled the white dress over her head, only to drop it right next to her together with her flower crown. Iorveth raised his eyebrows.  
“What are you doing?”  
“Take a swim to free my mind. I am unable to think straight…” She slipped out of her underpants and waded into the water.   
“Me neither,” Iorveth murmured as he stared at her.  
When she reached the middle of the pond, Yrdenne turned around and cocked her head.   
“Are you coming or no?”  
Her heart was in her mouth as she waited for Iorveth’s response, unaware that he was simply awestruck by what he saw. The water reached to her navel, the rest of her naked body was covered by sparkling water droplets.  
“Iorveth?”  
A slight smirk appeared on his face and he shook his head. “You are incorrigible.”  
Too slowly for her taste, Iorveth stood up and took his shirt off. The first thing she noticed was a new tattoo in the middle of his chest, some sort of butterfly with decorative swirls. And her impression in Dwynwen’s bath was right: He had gained muscles and looked much healthier than in Novigrad. When he begun to take off his trousers, Yrdenne bit her lip, but it was not his loin that caught her eye. Iorveth had another new tattoo on his thigh. It was larger than hers and looked more archaic, but the motif was the same: Three crossed arrows. With a chuckle on his lips, Iorveth followed her gaze.   
Wordless, he stepped into the pond and walked through water with strong paces. As soon as he reached her, Iorveth cupped Yrdenne’s face with his hands.  
“Can you imagine how I felt when I saw yours?” he whispered before he kissed her, and when his hands stroke down to her hips, a certain heat rose between her thighs.  
“I thought my chest would burst with pride,” Iorveth said, after he released her lips, “All those years, I was afraid you left because you despised what I was. Now, I know you are a part of it.”  
She could not help but smile. “Iorveth, the rebellion in Novigrad, fighting by your side… it made me who I am.”  
“And you made me who I am,” he murmured and kissed her brow, „How do you feel?”   
“Upset, and overwhelmed,” Yrdenne admitted, „Because once again we are in a mess. I am sorry that I pushed you into telling me about Cadfael.“ She leant against him and stole another kiss. The sensation of her bare breasts against his chest was breathtaking and Yrdenne wrapped her arms around Iorveth’s waist to draw him closer. Iorveth leant against her and when his tongue parted her lips and his kiss became more demanding, she sensed how he got hard.  
“And how are you?” she breathed against his mouth.  
“I will be fine…” Iorveth slid a hand between her legs and his lips made their way to her neck, along her collarbone, down her chest and, finally, to her breasts. Yrdenne moaned when his lips and tongue begun to caress her nipples. Arousal spread like wildfire through her veins.  
Her hands stroked over his sculpted muscles and eventually reached his groin. Iorveth bore his teeth against her skin and growled in pleasure when her fingers wrapped around his hard shaft to repay the caress. A memory from her studies flashed through her mind and Yrdenne could not hold back a brief giggle.  
“What’s so funny?” Iorveth murmured against her skin.  
“In the anatomy lessons, they told us that male elves are significantly larger than human men. They did not lie…” she chuckled.  
„Glad I didn´t disappoint you…” Iorveth gently bit her nipple.  
Feverish, she looked down at him and Iorveth raised his head to meet her gaze. Like earlier, something fierce and untamed flickered in his eye, a primeval desire that tore at its chains to take over.  
With one hand, Yrdenne grabbed his neck and brought his face to hers. His kiss was ravenous, and she moaned as his fingers slid inside her. Like a vortex, a storm of endorphins rushed through her body. Iorveth did not waste much time before he spread her legs wider and replaced his fingers with his length. Welcoming, Yrdenne wrapped her legs around his hips and answered this thrust with a passionate kiss. This time, they lingered over each other. The water around them cooled their heated bodies and the water lilies swayed in the rhythm of the waves they caused.   
Whenever Iorveth sensed that Yrdenne was close to climax, he slowed down or stopped moving at all, and, instead, covered her face with gentle kisses, stroked her legs, or ran his hand down her back.   
„I like how we went from fighting in the fire…” Iorveth whispered into her ear during another pause, „… to making love in the water.” His tongue ran along her helix and with a moan, Yrdenne pushed her pelvis against him. „I am wondering where we will be in another five years…”  
„Together,” whispered Yrdenne, „We will be together.” Iorveth looked at her, and she got lost in the leaf green of his gaze. As a reply, he kissed her and increased the pace again.  
Together. The thought was like a trigger. With every movement, they aligned their souls a little more, blended into each other. Yrdenne’s muscles began to pulse and she clawed her hands into Iorveth’s back. This time, he did not slow down, but released the feral beast that slumbered inside him, famished for lust. This wildness might be what truly made the Aen Seidhe non-human.   
Iorveth arms wrapped around Yrdenne’s body and pressed her tight against his, almost pleading he whispered her name. Worshipped, that’s how Yrdenne felt again. Iorveth revered her with every kiss, every touch, every thrust. He made her his goddess. They dove into their mutual climax like into a sacred current.

Entangled into each other, they remained in the water for a while. Exchanging soft glances and gentle kisses. Iorveth stroked her hair and kissed her, before he drew back.  
„What in all gods’ names are you doing to me?” he whispered before he breathed another kiss onto brow.  
„I could ask you the same.” Yrdenne’s body was still quivering under every touch from him. „I never felt something like this before…”  
„Neither have I,” Iorveth cupped her face with his hand, „You are a miracle.”  
Yrdenne shock her head and laid her hand on his scarred cheek „It´s not me, it´s us.”  
Another kiss, another whirl of butterflies in her chest. She met his gaze.  
„Iorveth, I love you.”  
Never before, Yrdenne had said these words to him. Wide-eyed, Iorveth stared at her.   
„You do,” he ascertained.   
„With every fibre of my heart,” a fond smile spread on her lips.   
Iorveth scanned her face, marvelled, mesmerized.   
„I really needed to hear this, but I was afraid you said no if I asked.”  
„When the world around us is shattered into pieces, I will still love you,” Yrdenne ran her fingers from his temple to his jawline, further down his neck to his chest, where she laid her hand over his heart. Only now, she took a closer look at the butterfly tattoo next to her hand. She blinked once, twice, and met Iorveth’s gaze again.  
„Is that a moth?”  
His lips, these lovely, kissable lips, curled into a smile. „A moth, surrounded by flames. I figured that we take turns on who is which, so I got both.”  
With a sigh, Yrdenne wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his chest to listen to his heartbeat. Iorveth kissed the top of her head and gently stroke down her back.  
„We should get out of the water, your skin feels cold.” Without waiting for her response, Iorveth picked her up and carried her out of the water like a bride over the threshold. Yrdenne could not help but chuckle, because that was exactly how she felt.  
The forest was steeped by grey twilight and the first fireflies circled about. Clittering cicadas replaced the songbirds and the night begun to expel the day. Midsommar, the longest day of the year was about to end.  
As soon as they reached the tent and Iorveth let her down, Yrdenne hurried inside to get two towels while he stoked up the fire. When Yrdenne brought him the towel, he took it to rub her skin dry and only when he was sure she was warm again, he wrapped it around his waist and sat down on the bedroll. Yrdenne slipped into her underpants and, with a cheeky grin, she grabbed Iorveth’s shirt from the ground and put it on. He watched her with raised eyebrows, strands of wet hair hanging into his face, and when she sat down with him and leaned against his shoulder with the most innocent sigh, he shook his head with such a boyish smile that Yrdenne’s heart fluttered in joy.   
„So, were you able to free your mind?” he asked, and the softness of his voice sent waves of warmth and love through her whole body. Iorveth started to run his fingers through her wet hair.  
Yrdenne purred and wrapped her arms around him.   
„My heart is still racing like a fleeing rabbit, but yes. How are you?”   
“It´s hard to process what… happened today,” he admitted, “There were a few moments when I was scared I am actually caught in a dream. When you kiss me, it feels like liquid fire’s running through my veins.” To prove his words, he kissed her, briefly but with passion. “I don´t want this night to end…”  
“Me neither,” murmured Yrdenne, leant against him for another kiss and gently pushed him backwards. Iorveth laid down and drew her with him, until she lay in his arms on top of him, her head resting on his chest. In silence, they curled up against each other, and like in that night in the cave, Yrdenne begun to trace his scars with the tip of her index while she listened to his breathing.   
The whole world shifted far away, it was just them and the crackling fire. Yrdenne dozed off, while Iorveth continued to stroke her back.

It was past midnight, when Yrdenne finally failed to dispel the thought that, at dawn, they would part again, and she did not know when she would see Iorveth again. She sat up and met his gaze.  
„There are things I need to tell you,” Yrdenne stated, and when Iorveth raised his eyebrows she added, „About tomorrow.”  
Hesitating, he nodded. „I am all ears.”  
Yrdenne took a deep breath, well aware that she was about to slither into the next chaos. But she needed him to know…  
„In the camp, I lied to you. I lied about the reason of my journey.”  
As expected, Iorveth frowned. „I already suspected something like that when I found out you did not go to La Valette.”  
„I am sure you heard of the illness,” she waited until Iorveth nodded before she continued, „It´s raging in Mahakam. Brouver Hook suspects a delegation from Dol Blathanna brought it upon his people, after he declined their plead for an alliance against Nilfgaard. He asked Temeria for help, but not the medical kind.”   
An uneasy feeling spread in her chest, as Iorveth’s expression darkened. Unable to look at him anymore, Yrdenne started into the flames of their little bonfire.   
„Ennis and Moira came to Vizima on their way to search for a treatment, and they asked me to join them. The same day, a former Scoia´tael from Tretogor told me that the illness already reached Redania. It started to spread in the capital, after a delegation from Dol Blathanna visited the city. We set out to investigate the root of this disorder right in Tretogor, but because of the Purple Lantern we changed our plans. We met Cjardeth and the refugees in the forest, and when we fled I told them I would go to La Valette. They don´t know that Cjardeth told me to search for to his old friend Aglaïs in Brokilon, because not even he knew what this mysterious illness is about, or why it kills so quickly. I was afraid to tell you, because you wear the colours of Dol Blathanna, now. Currently, no one of my friends knows where I am.”   
She cringed when Iorveth moved, for an instant she was scared he would get up and leave. But, of course, he didn´t. He sat up and shifted closer to her, put a finger under her chin and gently forced her to look at him.  
„I see why you concealed this. But please, never be afraid to tell me the truth. What you say is alarming – especially since Dol Blathanna did not send delegations to Mahakam nor Tretogor. At least, as far as I know. Whoever those delegates were – they never came for political proceedings. I am sure they brought the illness on purpose, with the clear cause to defame Dol Blathanna. I can´t thank you enough for telling me, even though it means that I have to return to the camp sooner than anticipated. I believe we have a traitor among us.” Iorveth sighed when he saw that Yrdenne opened her mouth to answer. „And it´s not Cadfael.”  
Yrdenne rolled her eyes and punched his arm.  
„I wanted to tell you to be careful.”  
Instantly, his expression softened, he laid his arm around her and drew her close. „I promise, I will,” he murmured against her hair and kissed her head. „I want to get out of this. Alive.”  
The thought that she had to leave the next day oozed deeper into Yrdenne’s mind, and it was sickening. She was entirely unable to shake it off.  
„When this is over, we will figure things out,” she whispered.  
With glowing eyes, she turned her head to meet his gaze – only to find him staring at the pond with knitted brows.  
„Yrdenne, there is also something I would like to tell you,” he hesitated, „My turn in the camp is over and I should be already back in the Valley of Flowers. I will not stay in Temeria. There are…” He struggled for words and was unable to look at Yrdenne. „There are things to settle, and people depending on me.”  
She took a deep breath and swallowed the lump that was growing in her throat.  
„Iorveth, it´s all right. No explanation owed,” it was a reminder for herself and for him, „I just wanted to let you know, that I will not abandon you again. Not like… in Novigrad. I will come back to you, no matter what.”  
The soft smile on Iorveth’s lips could not expel the sadness from his gaze.  
„Please, don´t sacrifice your future for me.” His look was almost pleading.  
For an instant, Yrdenne wanted to protest, because what was her future without him? But Iorveth’s expression was so stern she rather remained silent. This was not the night for arguments.  
“I am aware that you might wish to settle down, built a home, maybe start a family, and have a normal everyday life, like you had the past years. And you deserve that. But I need you to understand, that I have nothing to offer. I have no home, no wealth, no property. I cannot even provide peace, or safety. You must take this in account when you make… decisions. I want you to promise me, if you find someone who is willing to love you, and to give you the life you deserve, then take it. My only wish and my only desire for the future is that you are happy and safe. Don´t sacrifice that for me.”  
Yrdenne shivered and wrapped her arms around her own body. Wordless, Iorveth embraced her and held her tight against his chest.   
“How long will you stay tonight?” Yrdenne asked after a while.  
“As long as you wish.” He kissed her temple. “As long as you want me to.”  
Yrdenne swallowed, because she did not want him to leave at all.   
“Is forever fine for you?”  
Iorveth replied with a huffed laughter and squeezed her gently with his strong arms.   
In silent agreement that the time of talking was over, made the most of their last hours together whilst clinging to each other and enjoying the warmth and softness of their embrace. 

The day after Midsommar was a bright and sunny day, and Yrdenne woke up by the excited warbling of the songbirds. She took a deep breath of the fresh forest air before she opened her eyes, but the reality hit her hard when she realized that Iorveth was gone.  
She was tucked into her bedroll and still wore his shirt, his scent lingered on her skin, but he was nowhere to be seen.   
The emptiness he left behind was hard to bear, but Yrdenne knew today was the day. She forced herself to get up, washed her face with the cold water of the pond, put some trousers on and begun to pack her belongings.   
When Yrdenne’s knapsack was ready and she begun to roll up her bedroll, Naisula arrived at the tent.  
Her flower crown was gone and she looked extremely tired, but was foolishly smiling. Yrdenne met her gaze, and as a result, Naisula blushed and scratched the back of her head.  
“Seems like you caught me,” Naisula laughed.  
Despite her aching heart, Yrdenne smiled back at her friend.  
“So, you spend the night elsewhere….?”  
“This Lìosa is a very lovely woman,” Naisula winked, “Iorveth’s sentinel.”  
Yrdenne cocked her head and raised her eyebrows, that was indeed interesting.   
“And talkative, when she`s drunk… Lìosa is Francesa Finabhair’s cousin and was sent to the camp as Iorveth’s chaperon. But she adores Iorveth and is faking the reports she has to hand in, so he doesn´t get in trouble,” Naisula giggled, “He´s quite a rantipole, from what she told me. So I guess your night was rather wild?”  
Blood rushed into Yrdenne’s cheeks and her face felt hot. Yes. Rather wild… Simply the thought of his kisses and his touch rose a pleasant tingle between her legs.  
“Yeah, he looked like that when he returned. That´s how I figured I should get back to you.” Naisula’s smile faded a little, when she saw Yrdenne’s packed bag. “Just in time, I guess. When will you leave?”  
Yrdenne’s eyes grazed her knapsack. “Honestly, I don´t know. I am waiting for Kasi. She will accompany me.”  
A cheeky sparkle appeared in Naisula’s eyes and her face lit up.  
“Great, then there is plenty of time to tell me about your night, with all the naughty details!”  
So Yrdenne unrolled her bedroll and the two friends had a seat at the brink of the pond. While Yrdenne told Naisula about her time with Iorveth, Naisula did not hold back with delicate questions. 

It was almost noon, when Kasi finally showed up. To Yrdenne’s surprise, she did not wear the sentinel clothes, but a pair of brown linen shorts and a light green silk shirt with floral embroidery along the neck line. A backpack completed the hiking look, and only the knife on her belt gave evidence that Kasi was not as innocent as she looked like.  
“Hej Yrdenne, are you ready?”  
Naisula and Yrdenne exchanged a last look, before they got up. None of them was ready for a farewell.  
“Yes, at least I think so,” Yrdenne sighed. While Naisula folded her bedroll, Yrdenne went through her knapsack again and made sure she had everything she needed.   
The knapsack felt heavy when Yrdenne shouldered it, heavier than it should be. Naisula strapped the bedroll to the bag, and when Yrdenne turned around to bid farewell, the dryad tugged at her shirt.  
“It does not suit, you know. I will make sure you can return it to him,” she mumbled, tears glistening in her eyes. “So you better hurry up and come back, soon!”  
“I will,” Yrdenne threw her arms around Naisula and squeezed her tight, “I promise I will.”  
Kasi huffed, but in the corner of her eye Yrdenne saw how Kasi wiped something off her cheek.  
“You two are horrible. Let´s go, Yrdenne, Aglaïs is waiting for you.”


	21. The Valley of Healing

With a slight smile on his lips, Iorveth leant against the tree and watched how his warriors, one after another, came back to life after a rather wild night. Some of them, almost exclusively males, spent the night elsewhere and returned to the little camping side tired and with tangled hair, but with a very certain glow in their eyes. The same glow and the same smile that was so visible on Iorveth’s face. A tingling shiver ran down his back when he thought of the previous night with Yrdenne. He could not help it, but he was actually happy, despite all the worries that oozed through his mind. Life was light in Brokilon.  
“You look like a fool, when you are smiling like that,” snarled Cadfael, who arrived in the camp in this very moment. He looked tired but not in a good way, with dark circles under eyes that lacked the glow in his eyes as the others, his skin was pale and dull. Cadfael did not look like he had a pleasant night.  
Iorveth crossed his arms in front of his chest and his expression darkened.  
“I think we should talk, Cadfael,” Iorveth insisted. He tried not to sound too harsh, but the smug chuckle on Cadfael’s face was too annoying.  
“You mean you want to break my other cheekbone?” Cadfael raised his eyebrows.  
Iorveth clenched his jaw and took a deep breath.  
“We all agree that you deserved that. And it´s not like Dwynwen did not take care of your face.” But then he shook his head. “I know that we are not on good terms. But keep Yrdenne out of this.”  
Cadfael jutted his chin. “Is that an order, general?”   
“I don´t say this as your general.” The growl in Iorveth’s voice rose. “Nothing that happened between you and me is her fault. And what happens between Yrdenne and me is none of your business. Don´t punish her for what I did.”  
Cadfael laughed out and shock his head. “I consider being with you punishment enough. Maybe I just stay around to see who of you is the first to shatter the other into pieces. I´d like to remind you of that letter I found…”  
“Shut up, Cadfael,” Iorveth growled and made a step towards him, his hands curled into fists. “You were there when Yrdenne risked her life to save me. Without her, the dryads would have watched us die. I would do the same for her. I would give anything to keep her safe. It was Yrdenne, who told me to talk to you, today, to apologize.” He sighed. “I need to be able to trust you, Cadfael. I need you to protect her and keep her from doing anything stupid, when I can’t.”   
Cadfael’s smile faded. “How do you mean that?”  
Iorveth knitted his brows. “I mean that as an order.”

***

Brokilon was lavish and green and full of life, and for the first time it bothered Yrdenne. The conversations she had with Iorveth lay heavy on her heart, and the joyful songs of the birds felt like mockery. Kasi walked by her side in silence, the dark shadows under her eyes gave evidence of a long night. When a bumblebee examined the embroidery on her shirt, Kasi hissed a course in Elder Speech resulting in an indignant buzz from the fluffy insect, before it flew away. The air was warm and moist, promising a rather exhausting hike through the forest. The gnarled trees in the area of the forest they passed stood wide-spaced and the ground between them was covered by fluffy green moss.   
Yrdenne’s heart skipped a beat when she realized, that their path would lead them past the Magnolia tree. Her gaze searched for tracks of the past day, but the moss was so lush and thick that no traces of her or Iorveth remained. Only the sensation of hands on her skin lingered in Yrdenne’s mind. Her heartrate increased when she spotted the first pale pink blossoms between the trees, and she glanced at Kasi, wondering if the dryad knew what this tree meant to Yrdenne. An uneasy feeling spread in Yrdenne’s guts, an emptiness she could not fight.   
As they were close enough for Yrdenne to look through the leaves and branches, she did not believe her eyes. Someone leant against the tree, and from the dark colours of their clothes she could tell that it was not a dryad.  
“You will keep it short, yes?” asked Kasi, when she saw Yrdenne knitting her brow.  
“Why… what?” Puzzled, Yrdenne looked at Kasi, and then back to the tree.  
“He told me he wanted to say good bye in private,” Kasi shrugged her shoulders, but winked at Yrdenne, “Please hurry up.”  
Her heart burst into a vortex of butterflies. She did hurry, and when she opened the way though the curtain of leaves and branches, she found Iorveth waiting for her. Yrdenne could not hold the tears back. She crashed against him, arms wrapped around his waist, and buried her face against his chest.  
Iorveth held her tight and kissed the top of her head.  
“I could not let you leave like that,” he murmured against her hair, “I want to hold you, one last time…”  
Yrdenne met his gaze, but before she could say anything, he pressed his lips on hers. The kiss was deep, and passionate, but something about it felt utterly hopeless.   
“We will meet again,” Yrdenne assured him and cupped his face with his hands.   
“I hope so,” Iorveth swallowed and leant his brow against hers, “I really hope we will.” Once more, he kissed her so ravenous that Yrdenne needed to cling to him, because she was scared her knees would give in. Only reluctant, he let go off her.  
“Please, be careful,” Iorveth whispered and met her gaze. “Be careful, and remember what I asked you, yesterday.”  
“Be careful, too, Iorveth. And survive. Whatever life holds for you, please survive.”  
Yrdenne stole one last kiss, one last embrace, before she returned to Kasi.

The dryad waited for Yrdenne with a gentle smile on her lips, but said nothing. Silently, she led Yrdenne deeper into the forest, through waist-high blueberry bushes and ferns, and over clearings covered with wild flowers.   
They walked all afternoon, and when the sunlight faded, Kasi stopped under an old oak tree,  
“I hope you don´t mind sleeping in the open, but it would take at least a whole day longer if we travelled from village to village,” Kasi explained and unpacked a bedroll from her backpack. A grin spread on her face, “But I heard you already stayed outside last night. Only the company is not as nice today.”  
Yrdenne blushed up to the tip of her ears and scratched her head.  
“Yeah… no, I am happy with the company.”   
“Thanks,” Kasi chuckled, “There was quite some gossip going on after you abducted the general. But the brief glimpse I caught of you two at the feast said more than words. I am happy for you. Seems like dashing into battle was worth it.”  
For a moment, Yrdenne held still and met Kasi’s gaze.   
“He is always worth it.”  
From Kasi’s expression, Yrdenne could see that she understood. Even though Yrdenne did not know if Kasi had a partner, or lover, the dryad understood how it was to have someone worth fighting for and she nodded with a fierce determination in her eyes.

Their journey to meet Aglaïs took longer than Yrdenne expected, and carrying her own knapsack and Cardeth’s bag did not make it any better. They walked another full day, and the ground getting more and more uneven and rocky slowed down their pace. From time to time, when they clambered onto another rise, Yrdenne would stop for a breath and look about. Never before she had seen a forest so wild and ragged. From time to time, the silence of the woods was pervaded by the feral cries of birds. And even though Yrdenne never saw one of them, from the flapping sound of their wings she could tell they were huge winged beasts compared to the domestic birds of prey of Temeria.  
In the early morning hours of the second day, they reached a stream, wider than any of the brooks Yrdenne came across in Brokilon. Kasi pointed upwards a hill, towards the origin of the stream.  
“If you walk up this stream, you will reach Col Serrai, the valley of healing. Aglaïs lives behind the valley, nearby a waterfall. When you pass the valley, you can´t miss it.”  
Yrdenne stopped and raised her eyebrows.  
“Aren´t you coming with me?”  
Vehemently, Kasi shook her head.  
“No, unfortunately not. Aglaïs is not fond of visitors, and she had a particularly bad regard towards my mother. From here on, you have to find your path on your own.”  
Wide-eyed, Yrdenne dropped her shoulders. She looked up the stream, that disappeared between some huge rocks, and back to Kasi.  
“Thank you for taking me here. Thank you for all your help and support, and your patience with me”, Yrdenne’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. “Thank you for being a friend.”  
“Aaahh, come one…” Kasi rolled her eyes. “When Aglaïs and you found the solution for this illness, you will come back to the village and we have a few nice days before you save the world. This farewell is not forever.”  
Her attempt to smile was cute, but Yrdenne could see that Kasi, too, was sad about their parting. After a brief and hearty embrace, the two unalike women went their ways. Kasi would return to the village, where her unit waited for her to get back on duty. And Yrdenne begun to follow the stream to Aglaïs residence.  
Eventually, the ground on both sides of the stream begun to rise, creating a narrow valley, rather a canyon that framed the creek and the path. The terrain was uneven and craggy, and over the millennials, the gushing water had washed pools and ponds into the rock. Some of them were covered under a thin layer of steam, indicating hot springs underneath the surface. In the walls of the canyon, Yrdenne spotted several caves and she could got shake off the feeling that someone was watching her every step.  
It took another hour or so until she reached the waterfall.  
Being a steep turn, the valley opened into a crater-like basin, circled by a high crag. And the creek crashed down from the top into a little lake, where only the dark blue colour of the water indicated how deep it might be. The surface was so troubled that no water plants grew anywhere close to the waterfall. Only at the exit of the lake, where the stream entered the narrow canyon, bloomed a few water lilies. Next to the lake was a clearing, and huddled up against the crag stood a little timbered cabin with a huge garden in front, full of flowers, herbs and vegetables.   
On a bench by the garden, framed by huge rose-bushes sat a dryad reading in a book. Beside her a little table with a bowl of fruits, a crystal carafe with water and two crystal goblet.  
Aglaïs was tall, with slender limbs and a delicate shape. She looked young, but Yrdenne knew she must be centuries old. Her long sleek hair fell over her breasts down to her hips, it was of a very dark silky green that contrasted her light brown skin. When Yrdenne came closer, the dryad raised her head and met Yrdenne’s gaze with beautiful dark eyes framed by long lashes.   
Gracefully, she closed her book, put it on a small table next to the bench and stood up, and her pale green gown flowed down and enveloped her body like it was a waterfall itself.  
Yrdenne took a deep breath and walked straight towards Aglaïs.  
“You are late, human child,” the dryad greeted her with an ethereal voice, “I saw your arrival in the waters, for I felt a tremble in the world in the night my dear friend left his world and tried to reach out for his soul. But it seems like he gave the token that should have connected us to someone else.” Without hesitation, she reached out for the pendant that hung around Yrdenne’s neck and covered it with her hand. The touch made Yrdenne shiver.  
“I spoke to the Elder Council, and they did not allow me to see you at first,” Yrdenne begun to defend herself, but Aglaïs raised her other hand to silence her.  
“The fates had their reasons to hold you back, even if we fail to fathom their intentions.” With an elegant wave towards her bench, Aglaïs invited Yrdenne to sit with her. “I am aware that you must be tired from your journey, but time hastens on. Please tell me what happened to my dear friend Cjardeth, and whatever else he wanted me to know.”  
While Yrdenne took her knapsack and Cjardeth’s bad off and sat down on the bench, Aglaïs poured some of the water into a crystal goblet and handed it to Yrdenne before she sat down herself.  
“Tell me everything,” Aglaïs insisted again, “and begin with who you are.”  
Yrdenne took a sip from the water and took a deep breath.  
“My name is Yrdenne, and I studied medicine and herbology at the Academy of Oxenfurt. I finished my studies almost six years ago, during the war. For… personal reasons I moved to Novigrad and, more or less against the law, I started to treat patients in the non-human district. There, a friend introduced me to Cjardeth.”   
While she told Aglaïs of the rebellion in Novigrad, and also about Iorveth and her ties to the Scoia´tael, the expression of the dryad stayed stern but friendly. At no time she flinched, cringed or even raised an eyebrow. Only when Yrdenne mentioned how she had worked with Cjardeth, and how he took care of her arm after the fight against Varnhelm, a fond sparkle flitted across Aglaïs face.  
She listened to Yrdenne’s narration without saying a word, and even when Yrdenne begun to tell her about the illness and her reunion with Cjardeth, the dryad remained silent.   
“After that, the Elder Council finally allowed me to meet you.”  
Exhausted, Yrdenne reached for the gobbled and gulped down the water Aglaïs offered her. The dryad waved her head, processing the story she just had head, and, perhaps, trying to process the narrations of her dear friend’s death.  
“When I was young, I roamed the world to study diseases and their cures. I wandered through the realms, visited libraries, spoke to elders, healer and shamans. But never before I heard of a disorder like the one you described. What else can you tell me about it? What did Cjardeth say?” Aglaïs asked after some moments of silence.  
Yrdenne reached for Cjardeth’s bag and, after some searching, fished a little leather-bound book out.  
“While I waited for the permission to see you, I found this in Cjardeth’s belongings. I think it contains valuable information – but it´s written in glyphs I cannot read.”   
Aglaïs hesitated a moment when Yrdenne wanted to hand her the book, but eventually she took it and, as careful as handling a raw egg, she opened it and gazed at the writing. Patiently, Yrdenne watched how the dryad browsed through the book and read Cjardeth’s notes. After a while, Yrdenne begun to look about, watched the bumble bees tumbling from flower to flower and listened to the roaring of the waterfall. Her thoughts begun to circle back to Iorveth. The warmth that spread in her chest when she thought of him was soothing, but it failed to dispel the worries from her mind.   
“This is Cjardeth’s diary, he wrote it in a code only very few can read,” Aglaïs said out of nothing. Yrdenne did not notice that she was through with the book, and Aglaïs words ripped her out of her thoughts.  
“Oh,” Yrdenne replied and blushed, slightly ashamed that she had given something so personal away.   
“He wanted me to have it, and you were right about the content,” for the first time, Aglais lips curled into a soft smile. “Cjardeth spent a lot of time with humans and non-humans who contracted the illness. He wrote about the black aura that you mentioned, and that he suspects magic to be the source of the illness. People who wore dimeritium jewellery as protection against magic did not get as sick as others and rarely died. Cjardeth also reveals that he realized that he was immune to the disease, and he thinks the Brokilon jasper – the very amulet you wear now – plays a part in that. Brokilon jasper has the ability to channel and to amplify very certain magical energies, and the composition of the chemical elements resembles dimeritium.” Gracefully, Aglaïs closed the diary and put it aside to her other book, then folded her hands in her lap.  
“You mean – something that repels magic might be able to cure the illness?” Yrdenne’s eyes widened. Could it be that simple? And why did Cjardeth not tell her about the dimeritium?  
Of course it was not, Aglaïs shook her head.  
“I am afraid it is a little more complex. The minerals and elements in Brokilon jasper, and probably dimeritium, might be able to prevent or weaken the contagion. But as soon as someone is sick, their organs are severely damaged. You would need to expel the magic and heal the body with traditional remedies.”   
Yrdenne’s heart was pounding. Magic. If the origin of the illness was truly magic – where did it come from?  
“So, do we need a mage to treat the illness?” Yrdenne frowned. “Many of them left the Northern Realms after the war. And despite new laws, people are scared of magic, there are not many who would trust a mage – if any of them dared to practice openly.” It felt as if the newly gained hope was drained from her. Magic was a rare good in the Northern Realms.  
Aglaïs gently laid her hand on Yrdenne’s shoulder.  
“We will study my books together, and I will teach you about our way of healing, our very own kind of magic. But tomorrow.” When Yrdenne dropped her shoulders, Aglaïs smiled softly. “We need to gather some strength and free our minds from assumptions and prejudice. So, I will prepare us a meal and, afterwards, teach you how to centre yourself in a meditation.”  
Half disappointed, half curious, Yrdenne nodded and followed Aglaïs into her cabin.

Yrdenne was surprised how human the interior of the two-room cabin looked like. The living room had two large windows and was furnished with a huge dining table, three chairs and a bench, a stove, and a stone sink. Almost everywhere, Yrdenne spotted bundles of dried herbs, and over the stove was a shelf with earthen jars, probably also full of dried herbs and spices. At the wall behind the comfortable bank hung a large painting of a wild cragged coast and crashing waves. Through an open door, Yrdenne caught a glimpse of a comfortable but small bedroom. It contained a thick mattress covered by a greenish blanket, and a heavy looking chest adorned with carvings of runes and fishes. In the wall that faced the crag, Yrdenne spotted another door, but she felt it was not appropriate to ask for secret rooms in the moment of her arrival.   
Aglaïs noticed Yrdenne’s look at the furnishing.  
“I lived among humans, elves, dwarves and gnomes through the centuries. I hold many of them dear, and some of my closest friends came for a visit, from time to time. One of them, a young woman from Skellige, decided to stay with me for a while. She built this cabin and equipped it with furniture, over the years”, the dryad explained and ran her hand over the back of a chair with a fond expression in her eyes. “You can leave your belongings on the bench, for now. I leave it to you if you want to sleep in the attic or outside. I don´t accommodate visitors very often, so there is no extra room.”   
Aglaïs pointed at a ladder in the corner of the room, that disappeared in a gaping hole in the ceiling. Yrdenne followed the gesture with her eyes.  
“Um… I guess I will have a look at the attic, later.”  
While Aglaïs put a pot on the stove and begun to prepare a stew, Yrdenne went to the bench to drop her knapsack and the bag. As soon as the fire crackled in the stove, a cosy warmth spread in the cabin. It wasn´t cold, but sunset neared and the twilight begun to seep into the forest. Yrdenne shivered slightly, even though Aglaïs was friendly and kind, she felt like an intruder. 

After the dinner, the dryad led Yrdenne into her bedroom, where she sat down cross-legged on the mattress and signed Yrdenne to follow her example.  
“When the world seems to be upside down, you need to learn how to focus on your breathing. Even in chaos, you need to find your calm to make the right decisions,” Aglaïs explained when Yrdenne sat down next to her. “Close your eyes, sit straight as if a thread is pinned to the top of your head and pulls you up. And now, inhale, into your chest, into your stomach, count to four… and hold your breath. Try to sense your body, your arms and hands and fingers. Count to four. And exhale, slowly. Exhale the thoughts that hold you back, count to eight…”  
While she followed Aglaïs instructions, the world around Yrdenne begun to fade away. She lost track of time, track of presence, and while the conscience for herself grew, she forgot about the illness, about Iorveth and everything that haunted her. She only breathed.   
The next thing Yrdenne perceived was a warm feeling on her chest. It started as a tingle, but got warmer and warmer, and heavier. When the heat almost burnt her, she tore her eyes open and stared down. Aglaïs hand hovered over Cjardeth’s necklace, and the stone emitted a mysterious greenish light.  
“What…?” Yrdenne gasped, and in the instant she broke the silence, the light perished and the pendant cooled down. Aglaïs raised an eyebrow and met Yrdenne’s gaze.  
“Patience is not your strength, as it seems.”  
“What were you doing?” Yrdenne touched the pendant with the tips of her fingers, but what ever happened to it was over.  
“I tested the syntony of the stone. Brokilon jaspers align to the resonance of its owner. I gave it Cjardeth after the abandoned his magical powers, and after a while he figured out he was able to channel some of the energy of this stone and use it to heal others, because the stone adapted to him.” Aglaïs cocked her head and scanned Yrdenne’s body. “Even though you received the jasper only a few weeks ago, the consonance of this jasper and your soul and body is remarkable. I am wondering how Cjardeth… did this.” The hand of Aglaïs still hovered over Yrdenne’s chest.  
Yrdenne looked down at the stone. Since Cjardeth gave it to her, she had never paid much attention to it. The pendant was nothing more than a token to her, a pretty stone on a leather band.  
“Cjardeth did something to me before he died… he made sure that I could enter the refuge of the Aen Savherne. I think they called it a blessing.” Hesitating, Yrdenne raised her hand and felt her brow. “He drew some sign on my forehead.”  
Aglaïs shock her head. “I know that sign, and it´s not enough to connect to a Brokilon jasper. It needs more interaction, more magic. It might have even been painful. Did he ever take care of an injury of yours?”  
“No as far as I can recall…” But then she remembered. With wide eyes, Yrdenne stared at her upper arm. “During the battle of Novigrad, my arm was shattered. I thought I could never use it again, and even Cjardeth said my movements would be impaired. He reduced the fracture in a surgery and stitched me back together.” Yrdenne throat bobbed, and she ran her hand over the scars that were now hidden between the lines of her tattoo. “It took months, but the bones healed surprisingly well. Some slight issues remained, especially when I put a lot of strain on it… though, I cannot remember when it hurt the last time.”  
Aglaïs’ face lit up and her hand slid to Yrdenne’s arm. A tingle spread into Yrdenne’s shoulder from where the hand of the dryad grazed her skin.   
“Cjardeth used the power of the jasper to arrange the bone fragments and settle them into place. Traces of its energy remained in the cracks. Truly remarkable work, I did not even know this is possible!” With a spark in her eyes, Aglaïs met Yrdenne’s gaze. “The jasper recognized you.”  
Again, Yrdenne shivered. She never got in touch with real magic or mages, except of Ingfryd, Cjardeth and Dwynwen. And, as far as she knew, the magic of the Aen Savherne was entirely different to common magic.  
“And… what does that mean?” Unintended, Yrdenne’s hand reached for the pendant and curled around the stone.  
Aglaïs drew her hand back. “It means, that with intensive training, you might be able to channel some of the healing powers Cjardeth awoke in this jasper. If you work hard, you could be able to recognize the black aura of the illness and maybe even expel it.”  
Yrdenne’s eyes widened. She opened her hand and looked at the pendant in her palm. Oh, how she wished Cjardeth was still alive and could explain her what happened.   
“You will need to learn how to focus on your inner strength, and then call the power of the jasper with your soul. Truly, this is nothing a dh’oine can learn easily. But when he healed you, Cjardeth already established the roots of this connection without knowing it.”  
Yrdenne’s heart begun to flutter like a young bird. She could learn how to use healing magic, something she never even considered dreaming of.  
“But…” her throat bobbed, “That will take time. And I don´t have time. People are dying, and I already wasted a lot of time with waiting.”  
Very slowly, Aglaïs nodded and folded her hands in her lap.   
“We will see. For today, there is nothing more to learn or to discover, so we should rest and free our minds. Tomorrow, I will study my books and, together, we will see how capable you are of calling the jasper.”


	22. Decisions

Beside the omnipresent roar of the waterfall, Aglaïs’ valley was probably one of the quietest places in Brokilon. Not many songbirds found their way into the garden of the dryad, and neither did the bumble bees. Instead, a myriad of butterflies fluttered from blossom to blossom and pollinated all the different kinds of plants. And from time to time, a few rabbits hopped through the vegetable patch.  
Most of the time, Yrdenne’s studies with Aglaïs went as expected: The dryad taught her about herbs and potions, shared recipes for tonics, salves, and other remedies, and together they browsed through the four, or maybe five dozen leather bound reams that Aglaïs called her private library.  
But three times a day, in the early morning hours, after lunch, and at sunset, Aglaïs taught Yrdenne how to meditate, how to find her inner core and listen to her inner voice, and how to channel the energy of the Brokilon jasper. At least, she tried.   
In the morning of the third day in the valley, Aglaïs had Yrdenne sit down at the brink of the lake with the task to transfer energy from the stone on her chest through the veins in her arms and hands into an herbal tonic. Yrdenne held a crystal goblet with both hands, eyes closed, and tried to visualize the flowing energy. As every time before, she failed.  
At first, she managed to excite the jasper and it begun to glow, first only lowly and pulsing, but the light became steadier and brighter, and eventually, Yrdenne begun to feel a tingle on her chest that seemed to ooze into her body. But when she tried to grasp the energy and channel it into her arms, the light of the gemstone turned into a throbbing flicker until, out of nothing, the glow vanished.   
Frustrated, Yrdenne huffed and, for an instant, considered throwing the damn goblet into the lake.   
“I will not learn this,” she stated and met Aglaïs gaze. The dryad sat some feet away, cross-legged and curiously watching.  
“No, with that attitude, you will not.” Aglaïs slightly dropped her shoulders and shock her head.   
“I am trying!” Yrdenne clenched her jaws. She felt useless, and the training was a waste of time.  
“A wise man once said: Do it, or do not. There is no try.” A soft smile flitted across Aglaïs face. But out of a sudden, it faded and she stood up with knitted brows.  
“Too early,” the dryad whispered, and louder, “Someone is coming.”  
Yrdenne put the goblet on the ground and stood up, too. The tensed expression on Aglaïs face was concerning, so Yrdenne stepped to her side and followed her gaze to the entrance of the basin.  
Not knowing what, or whom, to expect, Yrdenne cursed herself for leaving her bow and dagger at the village. She gasped out loud when she saw who entered Aglaïs refuge so early in the morning. It was Naisula, and she was running.

“Yrdenne!” Naisula yelled when she spotted her friend and started waving. She did not slow down until she reached Yrdenne and crashed against her in a fierce embrace.  
“Yrdenne, thank the mother I finally reached you! I ran day and night.” The young dryad was gasping for air, and her brow and chest were covered by droplets of sweat. The scent of willow leaves enveloped her.  
“Naisula, by the gods, what happened?” Yrdenne grasped Naisula’s shoulders and met her gaze.  
“Iorveth…” Naisula still tried to catch her breath, “One of his warriors came all the way from the camp, they have been attacked... Something went horribly wrong since Iorveth left and the illness broke out… According to the warrior, the first elves already died, and something happened to the Aen Savherne. I don´t know what exactly, but Iorveth decided to go back to the camp without his warriors.”  
The words echoed in Yrdenne’s mind. Wide-eyed, she stared at Naisula, unable to reply. Iorveth went back to the camp. Where the illness was raging. Alone.  
“I… I thought you might want to know that.” Naisula looked at Yrdenne with a heaving chest. Her expression was pleading. “Lìosa is with him.”  
“Thank you, Naisula.” Yrdenne’s throat bobbed. Something heavy clenched her throat and ribcage, it was difficult to breathe. “Thank you for coming all the way…” Yrdenne turned her head to Aglaïs, who watched the two women with her hands folded in front of her stomach.  
“If you want to save him, you have to leave,” Aglaïs said as soon as Yrdenne’s eyes met hers. “But if you want to learn how to save many, you should stay.”  
The words of the dryad shattered Yrdenne’s soul. She looked down at herself, at the jasper on her chest and at her hands. Her bare hands, which could become so powerful, if she was willing to sacrifice time – and maybe Iorveth’s life, to learn how to use the gods damned necklace.  
“No.” The decision was easy. “I will not stay.” Yrdenne locked eyes with Aglaïs again. “Through all his life, Iorveth gave everything to save his people. He would sacrifice his own life for any of his warriors. He sacrificed being with me to continue his fight, and I abandoned him because I did not understand it. I will not abandon him again, not when he needs me.”  
A relieved smile spread on Naisula’s lips, and Aglaïs frowned.  
“I see. Then, all I can do is giving you what you need to fight this illness and wish you the best.”  
When Yrdenne made attempt to run to the cabin and get her belongings, Aglaïs held her back.  
“We will have breakfast first, and Naisula needs rest. Don´t drain yourselves before the battle even started.”

Even though Aglaïs did not hide her disapproval of Yrdenne’s decision, she served the two young women a rich breakfast with bread, fruits and honey, and wrapped some of the bread into big leaves, so they could take it as provisions. While Yrdenne packed her bag, Aglaïs went into her bedroom and returned with four Brokilon jaspers in her hand. Wide-eyed, Yrdenne stared at the gem stones.  
“Are you serious?” she asked and met Aglaïs gaze. The dryad replied with a smile and nodded.  
“One is for Iorveth, if you find him. His name made it to my valley before, and I know he is a friend of Brokilon. The other stones are for your personal stash, to use them as a treatment for those suffering from the illness. You can give them away as a loan, but they will lose their power if they are not given back to you.”  
“Thank you,” Yrdenne’s throat bobbed, “I don´t know what to say… This might be the greatest gift I have ever received. These gems are godsend.” Carefully, she took the jaspers from Aglaïs’ hands and packed them into her bag.   
“I was never aware how powerful they become in the other hands than mine. Maybe you can make something from it. Use them wisely.” Gently, the dryad laid her arm around Yrdenne and embraced her. “I hope you come back one day, to tell me what you achieved and to show me what you learned.”  
“I promise I will.” A soft smile flitted across Yrdenne’s face.  
Naisula took Yrdenne’s knapsack and put it on her back.   
“We need to hurry, and I am stronger than you are,” she explained, “Thank you, Aglaïs.”  
“Naisula, will we head straight to the camp? We don´t have any weapons…” The thought of running into the Purple Lantern again caused an uneasy feeling in Yrdenne’s stomach. She was relieved, when Naisula shook her head.  
“We will stop in the village to get our bows.”

Yrdenne did not know where Naisula found the strength and energy to walk so fast. It was obvious, that her human constitution slowed them down, but Naisula was patient whenever Yrdenne needed a break to catch her breath.   
They walked the whole day, and they continued to hurry even when the sun begun to set. While Naisula was confident that leaving Brokilon to save Iorveth – and Lìosa – was the right thing to do, Yrdenne felt how guilt crept up in her chest with every step away from Aglaïs. Her friends were counting on her, it was the original aim of her journey to find a cure for the illness to help Mahakam. And now, she betrayed them, for Iorveth`s sake. Unwitting, her right hand clawed at her left wrist and the fingernails dug into her skin. Was is selfish to put Iorveth’s life over that of many others?  
Even though Yrdenne stoically stared at the path in front of her, Naisula slowed down and took Yrdenne’s hand, so she let go of her wrist.  
“Don´t punish yourself for decisions you made,” she said with a low voice, “Remember that there are about three hundred elves in the Dol Blathanna camp that deserve healing, too. When we follow our heart, it´s always the right path.”  
Yrdenne’s throat bobbed. “Thank you. I needed to hear this.”  
Even though they both knew that time was running, they kept the slower pace. After a while, Naisula, drew a small glass bottle out of a little pouch that was tied to her belt, and handed it Yrdenne. The bottle contained a dark brownish, almost black liquid, and when Yrdenne pulled the cork, a strong smell of fir trees and flowers gushed out of it.  
“Drink that, it will keep you awake,” Naisula insisted. With shrugging shoulders, Yrdenne took a sip from the bottle. The liquid felt like fire in her throat, but soon Yrdenne felt a peculiar kind of energy flowing through her muscles. Whatever this was, it kept her going.

They reached Naisula’s tent in the morning of the next day, after walking all night with only one longer break, an hour after midnight. Yrdenne was surprised when she spotted a packed backpack, two quivers full with arrows, and their bows leaning against the canvas of the tent.   
“I knew you would come.” A soft smile spread on Naisula’s face when she noticed Yrdenne’s look.   
“Then, we fill the water skins and leave right away?” Every moment Yrdenne was not moving towards Iorveth felt like an incredible waste of time. But Naisula shock her head.  
“We will take a break. Aglaïs was right, we need to rest before we leave the forest. Only the mother knows what awaits us, and she will not be able to protect us once we left Brokilon.”  
Surprised, Yrdenne met Naisula’s gaze.  
“But… It´s so far. And Iorveth probably took horses…”  
“Yes, he did. I know, he has a head-start. But I did not plan to walk all the way either. After nightfall, we will go and get mounts, too. I know Kasi will freak out, but we have no choice-“  
“Not only Kasi will freak out!” A harsh voice behind them made Yrdenne cringe.   
“Please tell me you will not do what I am thinking!”  
Quickly, Yrdenne and Naisula whirled around. It was Cadfael. Who else?  
Immediately, Yrdenne squared her back and crossed her arms in front of her chest.  
“Why does it bother you what we are doing? And what are you even doing here? Were you waiting for us behind a tree?”  
The elf rolled his eyes.  
“I should have, but luckily I spotted you when you snuck through the village. And it does bother me, because you can make an educated guess who is Second in command and in charge of our unit, now,” Cadfael huffed, “And you can guess further, who got the direct order from our beloved General to keep you from doing horseshit like exactly what you are planning to do.”  
Yrdenne frowned. “Iorveth ordered you to keep me from leaving Brokilon?”  
“No,” Cadfael shook his head, “His exact words were something like, I have to protect you and keep you from doing anything stupid. And I am sure, he considers you running after him extremely stupid.”  
“I don´t think so,” snarled Naisula and cocked her head.  
“I will not let you follow him,” Cadfael stated and crossed his arms, “And if I have to tie you to a tree again.”  
Baffled, Yrdenne raised her eyebrows. “I don´t think Iorveth would approve that.”  
“I don´t fucking care what he approved! Do you even know what happened? Idris came, and he almost wrecked the horse to reach us! He was in an awful condition, too, and you can say about him what you want, but he risked a lot to warn us. The Purple Lantern attacked the camp just a day after we left. Only the gods know how they knew where to find it – or how they overcame the magical borders! According to Idris, it was a blood bath, and they even attacked the Sacred Hall.” The memory of the narration sent shivers down his spine and Cadfael shuddered. “They took the Aen Savherne, all of them, and left as quickly as they came. While my comrades tried to care for the wounded and fix the damage, the first started to fall sick. Even though he was injured, Idris knew Iorveth would want to be with his warriors. And he is their only hope. Going there is a suicide!”  
“And Iorveth knew that,” Yrdenne mused.  
Cadfael nodded.  
“He knew it. That´s why he passed me the command and the strict order to stay in Brokilon until he or another general reverses that order. Yrdenne…” Cadfael sighed, “I would be the first to follow him, really. But I have to obey, to protect my sisters and brothers in arms. And you should stay, too.”  
A cheeky grin spread on Naisula’s face while Cadfael spoke.  
“So, if Yrdenne, let´s say, escapes your poor attempts to keep her from doing something stupid… you would be obliged to come after her? You know… to protect her?”  
This time, it was Cadfael who raised his eyebrows.  
“Um, yes, I think so.”  
“Like that, you could sort of… join us.” Naisula’s grin got wider.   
“Wait, you want this prick to accompany us?” Yrdenne knitted her brow.   
“Well… why not? I mean, he knows how to handle a sword and each weapon increases our chance to reach the camp before those Pink Candle guys find us.”   
Upset, Yrdenne opened her mouth to protest, but Cadfael was the first to respond.  
“That idea is not too stupid. I think… I´m in.” And then he chuckled. “I like Pink Candle.”  
A sigh escaped Yrdenne’s lips. “All right. I see your point. But after what happened on Midsommar, I am not sure if I am comfortable with him around.” She glanced at Cadfael.  
Cadfael’s smile faded and he turned to Yrdenne. “I know, I am not exactly an example for good behaviour. And I am deeply sorry you had to witness that. But before anything else, Iorveth is my General, and I will obey his orders. If he wants me to protect you, then I will do so with my life.”  
His words moved Yrdenne, and she took a deep breath.  
“All right. If you want to obey your orders so badly, come with us. We will leave after nightfall and we will ride all night. Either await us at the border, or try to catch up with us.”  
Cadfael nodded. “I can assure you, if you try to outrun me, I will find you anyway.”  
After Cadfael was gone, Yrdenne and Naisula crawled into her bedrolls and tried to catch some sleep before they had to leave. 

At first, Yrdenne struggle to fall asleep, because she was worried and upset and she still could not shake of the guilt of choosing Iorveth over Mahakam. But at some point the exhaustion became overwhelming and dragged her into a deep, black abyss.  
After nightfall, Naisula had to shake Yrdenne and already considered slapping her face, because nothing seemed to wake her from the dreamless sleep. Only when Naisula whispered Iorveth’s name into Yrdenne’s ear, she eventually woke up.  
“Finally,” breathed Naisula, “Get up now! We have to hurry.”  
In the dim moonlight, they got dressed, packed the remaining necessities and snuck off into the darkness. Naisula led Yrdenne to the clearing where Kasi had called the deer the other day, and like Kasi, Naisula used a high-pitched quavering yell to call the animals.   
The moments until the feral deer broke appeared between the trees seemed endless, but Yrdenne was excited to see the young buck directly trotting towards her. As soon as he reached her, the buck rubbed his head against her stomach.   
“Seems like he missed you,” Naisula chuckled while she mounted her doe.  
“Seems like he is ready for another adventure,” Yrdenne added and softly patted his shoulder before he knelt down to let her climb on his back.

Despite the low light and the late hour, the two deer broke into a trot eventually, and without much guidance they found their way to the border of Brokilon. Once more, Yrdenne’s heart felt heavy because she knew this time she really left this place behind. Maybe forever.  
At the edge of the forest, Cadfael was nowhere to be seen, so they decided to head out without him. Like he said, he would find them. The sentinels, who for sure where on duty above them in the trees, did nothing to hold them back when they passed the border.   
On the grasslands around Brokilon, the night was much lighter out there, under the cloudless sky.   
It did not take long until they heard a galloping horse behind them. Naisula turned her head to make sure it was Cadfael following them, and when she saw him, she could not help but laughed.  
“Oh, that´s a very unobtrusive outfit.”  
Yrdenne glanced over her shoulder and chuckled. Cadfael dashed towards them on a white horse in his silver-ish armour. The moonlight reflected on the metal and he must be widely visible.  
“Of course, when we asked for company, we had to pick the shiny one,” Naisula chuckled.   
When the elf reached them, he greeted them with a brief nod. Never before, Yrdenne had seen   
“Should be no deal to sneak through the lines of the Purple Lantern with your stealth abilities,” Naisula added with a grin.  
“It´s not like your mounts are rather eye-catching, too,” Cadfael huffed, “Anyway, shall I take the lead? I probably know the way better than you two.”  
“Oh please, go ahead!” Naisula bowed slightly and made a sweeping gesture to the front. Cadfael took a deep breath, but owed her a reply. He spurred the horse to pass them.  
The whole night, they rode in silence.   
When the sky begun to turn lighter and then faded into a vibrant orange-red, they decided to take a break. Cadfael led them into a small wood with a huge rock in the centre, that provided some shelter from curious eyes. A little gargling stream made its way through the trees and provided fresh water for the animals.  
“So, why is your armor silver, while Iorveth and some others wear black steel? I already wanted to ask this after the battle…” Naisula cocked her head while watched Cadfael unpacking some provisions from his saddle bag.  
“Black is only for Vrihedd veterans,” he replied plainly, “The armor of Dol Blathanna has ever been light steel, or silver as you name it. Those who fought in Brenna chose to wear black, in remembrance of their fallen comrades – and probably, to piss off Francesca Findabhair.”  
Yrdenne’s heart skipped a beat and a grin flitted across her face. She knew exactly who had been the first to keep his own black armor and probably was the first to refuse the silver of the Valley.   
Cadfael sighed. “And I don´t even need to turn my head to know that you completely approve these shenanigans.”   
“Francesca Findabhair betrayed those who fought for Dol Blathanna. She sold her own officers to the Northern Realms. She is responsible for my father’s death.” Naisula’s mood flipped out of nothing and her voice was a snarl. Eyes narrowed to slits, she glared at Cadfael, who finally turned around to meet her gaze.  
“I see why some of the Scoia´tael still want to fight for the Aen Seidhe living in the Valley of Flowers, but not for her. But such a visible lack of unity might by our downfall one day.”  
“Lack of unity?” Yrdenne was baffled. “Maybe I get this wrong, but weren´t you condemning the Scoia´tael and – if I remember right – branding them?”  
Slowly, Cadfael turned to her. “That was entirely personal, because Idris is a whole different story. It was wrong to drag you into that, and I already apologized.” He tried to stay calm, but his voice trembled. “I´d pour boiling oil over Idris if Iorveth let me. But that´s really none of your business.”  
“Wait – what?” Yrdenne raised her eyebrows.   
“This conversation is over. You two go and sleep, I will keep watch.” The wrath and hurt that flared in his gaze made Yrdenne shut up. She exchanged a worried glance with Naisula, the dryad gave her a slight nod and so they did as they were told.   
After a snack from their provisions, the two women curled up in their bedrolls next to each other and Cadfael watched them with knitted brows. 

For the remainder of their journey, Yrdenne and Naisula carefully avoided asking questions about Dol Blathanna or Iorveth, or Cadfael’s stand on Scoia´tael.   
The atmosphere became even more tensed, when the next day, Cadfael noticed a rather large group of horseman in the distance, moving Northern. They stopped their mounts and watched the horsemen.  
“That must be the main road of Temeria, leading from Vizima to la Valette,” mused Yrdenne and frowned. “Do you think that is the Purple Lantern?”  
Cadfael shrugged and shock his head.   
“Hard to tell from here, but from the size of the group I assume that are at least thirty, if not fifty people. I can´t make out a banner or anything, but it looks like a military unit. All I can tell is that it´s not a circus.”  
“Military unit, circus… often not much of a difference,” mumbled Naisula, but she, too, watched the group with knitted brows.   
“I´d like to get a little closer and follow them for a bit, just to make sure,” suggested Cadfael, “We need to get Northern anyway, so it´s basically on our way.”  
Yrdenne’s heart was pounding, her hands clawed into her buck’s fur and the animal pawed on the ground.   
“Won´t we lose too much time?” Again, she felt like being too slow, and every hour one the road was an hour less to help Iorveth.  
Cadfael met her gaze and studied her face for a moment.   
“He is a big boy. He will manage the chaos without help for a bit, and from here, the Camp is only about a one-day ride away. But if the Purple Lantern is getting reinforcement and these guys head directly to their headquarters, the information we get might be war-deciding.”  
“But if it´s not the Purple Lantern, we will head straight to the Camp,” Yrdenne insisted.  
“As soon as we know who it is.” Cadfael nodded and spurred his horse again.   
An uneasy feeling spread in Yrdenne’s chest the further they went. They paid attention to stay behind the horsemen and Cadfael led them through woods and fields out of sight from the main road. Every now and then he made a detour to catch a glimpse of the road, to make sure their target was still moving forward.   
When the sun begun to set, Yrdenne, Naisula and Cadfael approach a range of hills. They stopped in the shadow of a group of trees and Cadfael signed at the raising.  
“Behind these hills is a wide plain without any woods. We will have a great view, but unfortunately there will be no cover. I will risk a glance at the other side, but we will stay on this side and travel Eastern,” Cadfael explained. “You stay here, until I am back or sign you to run.”  
Naisula and Yrdenne nodded, but as soon as he was out of hearing range Naisula leant to Yrdenne.  
“Is he always that bossy?”  
Despite the tension, Yrdenne chuckled. “I think he is just over-protective and worried.”  
The deer were prancing about, Cadfael was not the only one who was strained.  
Silently, the two women watched how Cadfael descended off his horse below the top of the hill and walked the last few metres, and even crawled the last bit, hidden in the high grass.  
“That looks very professional,” Naisula chuckled, but Yrdenne noticed that the dryad held her breath and clawed her fingers into the fur of her doe.  
Out of nothing, Cadfael stood up. He blatantly stared at whatever lay on the other side of those hills. Yrdenne frowned and her hand slid to the hilt of her dagger.  
“What the – “  
Cadfael turned around and gestured them to follow him. In the light of the setting sun it was difficult to read his expression, but he seemed to be surprised. Slowly, he sauntered back to his horse, while Yrdenne and Naisula spurred their deer.

“Yrdenne, please tell me you know what is happening there,” Cadfael sad with wide eyes when they reached him. He signed at whatever he had seen. Curious, Yrdenne lead her buck on the top of the hill and gazes at the plain on the other side.  
A military camp.   
It was not big and still under construction, only half of the palisades were up and as far as she could guess, even if it was finished the camp would only accommodate about two hundred warriors. But what was striking were the two commando tents in the centre of the camp. They were blue and the canvas, widely visible, was adorned with huge Temerian lilies.   
This was the Temerian army, and they set up a camp in Northern Temeria, close to Redania, close to La Valette, and very close to the camp of Dol Blathanna’s army.   
“No, I don’t,” Yrdenne swallowed, “But we will go down there and find out. They probably know that we´re here anyway.”  
Without waiting for a reply of her companions, Yrdenne spurred the buck. The animal fell into a gallop and raced down the hill, straight towards the camp. Naisula and Cadfael followed her right away.   
Her heart was pounding and Yrdenne could hear the blood rushing in her ears. The first soldiers already noticed them, soon the whole camp was alert and a unit of armored soldiers with lances gathered at the gap in the palisades, backed by crossbowmen and five armed horsemen.  
Once she was down the hill, Yrdenne slowed the buck down. Afraid the Temerian soldiers would shoot if she dashed towards the camp in full speed. The buck fell into a trot, so that Naisula and Cadfael could catch up and side with her.   
“What the hell are you doing?” hissed Cadfael.  
“Asking what is happening here,” Yrdenne pressed through her teeth.   
She could only imagine what went on in the heads of the men in front of her. Two women on deer accompanied by an elf in silver armour was truly not an ordinary spectacle.  
Coming closer, she recognized three of the horsemen. The one in the middle was General Silverstine, a relatively young man with dark skin and a well-groomed black beard. His dark eyes were piercing and Yrdenne knew that he often bumped heads with the man to his left, General Winchester.   
General Winchester was an old man, battle-wise and very conservative. His hair was full and almost white, and while his watery blue eyes with hanging lids often seemed tired, he was full of wit. Formerly well trained with a broad chest and strong arms, the past rather peaceful years had left their traces in form of a beer-honed stomach.   
And to General Silverstine’s left, on the back of a brown horse, was the man Yrdenne seriously did not need to see: Dalayer.  
Silverstine yelled an order, and the soldiers raised their lances, ready to defend their camp.  
“Stay behind me!” Yrdenne pressed through her teeth, hoping she got the chance to speak before Cadfael did something stupid.   
She slowed the buck further down, and then stopped a stone throw away, turning her mount so his flank faced the Temerians. Even though it made her – or better, her buck – a larger target, she was afraid it was difficult to communicate over his massive antlers. And like that she built a protective barrier between the Temerians and Cadfael – for both sakes.   
This was the moment Dalayer recognized her. He gasped and was about to break through his own lines.  
“Yrdenne! What in all gods’ names?”  
Behind her back, Yrdenne heard Cadfael laugh out.  
“I see, we met friends.” – “Shut up, you prick,” whispered Naisula.  
“Who are you, and what do you want?” bellowed Winchester, resulting in a glare from Dalayer.   
“I am Yrdenne Joarrsdottir, court healer of Vizima. My friends and I are travelling Northern, and are looking for a safe space to stay for the night,” Yrdenne replied loudly. Even though she knew nothing could happen to her, her hands were shaking.  
“Do you have proof for this assertion? And if so, why are you accompanied by the enemy?” The General was obviously not convinced by her words, his expression darkened. Yrdenne took a deep breath.  
“I had a document, but it was taken away from me weeks ago, but I am sure some of your men know me. And we, General Winchester, met before at the Yule dinner in the palace.”  
Relieved she saw that Silverstine nodded slightly, but Winchester frowned.  
“Don´t you think I would remember if savage half-elf scum was allowed to attend the Yule dinner?”  
Yrdenne stared at the men open mouthed. Half-elf-what?  
Dalayer could not hold back anymore.  
“With due respect, General Winchester, this woman is the court physician and confident of Lady Anaïs La Valette. Additionally, she is a close friend of many officials in Vizima, including myself. I can guarantee” – “I do not remember asking you!” the General snapped at Dalayer.   
At this point, General Silverstine had enough.  
“Even though your attire is not what I would expect of the court physician of Vizima, I do remember you very well, Lady Yrdenne.” His voice was loud and clear, but also much kinder than Winchester’s.  
“If you could introduce your… company to us, maybe we can dissolve this situation and continue the conversation at a more convenient place.”  
General Winchesters face turned into a deep red, he opened his mouth to protest, but as three of the soldiers in the front row assured to recognize Yrdenne, too, he stayed quiet.  
Behind her back, Yrdenne heard a relieved sigh from Naisula.  
“Thank you, General Silverstine,” Yrdenne bowed her head, “With me are Naisula, daughter of Rehema, a dryad from Brokilon and Cadfael, Officer in charge of a military unit from Dol Blathanna, deployed in Brokilon.”  
“Technically I am not in charge anymore,” whispered Cadfael, but Yrdenne ignored him.  
Silverstine finally smiled and nodded.   
“I am honoured to welcome the three of you. Please follow us.”


	23. The Letter

In the orange light of the setting sun, the Temerian camp looked almost romantic. The grass was, even though flattened by many feet, still green, and the typical stench of human war camps was not omnipresent yet. After Silverstine ordered his men to dissemble, they quickly went back to their position, but Yrdenne was surprised to see that he dismissed everyone, except Dalayer. In silence, they rode behind him, General Winchester and Dalayer to the centre of the camp, where the large tents of the Generals stood at the edge of a small parade ground. Everyone around them was busy unloading cargo from the waggons, bringing wood for the palisades, or baskets with provisions to the field mess. Yrdenne noticed women in the typical aprons of barber surgeons and field nurses pitching up the sick bay tent, together with a hand full of soldiers. And somewhere in the distance, Yrdenne spotted a coloured tent with red and pink and purple pennants, so the meretrixes were already here, too.

When they reached the parade ground, Silverstine, Winchester, and Dalayer descended from their horses and handed the reins to the varlets, who were already waiting for them.

Cadfael followed their example, and when he noticed that Dalayer was on his way to Yrdenne’s buck, the elf quickly stepped to her side and offered his hand to help her down. Dalayer stopped, and a frown flitted across his face, but he did not say anything. With a chuckle on her lips, Yrdenne took Cadfael’s hand and slid off the back of her mount.

“This blonde guy… should I know anything about him?” mumbled Cadfael when Yrdenne stood in front of him. “I don´t like how he looks at you.”

“No need to worry, Dalayer is a friend. We can trust him,” Yrdenne assured him, not without glancing at Dalayer, who stood a few steps away and watched them.

“Dalayer?” Cadfael raised an eyebrow, turned his head and eyed Dalayer critically. “I see.”

An instant later, Silverstone came to them with a wide smile.

“Welcome to our modest camp. Do you want the varlets to take care of your… animals?” He nodded at the deer with a slightly helpless smile.

“No, thank you. We will just release them for the night,” Naisula hopped at Yrdenne’s side, “They will find everything they need in the woods.”

“Alright,” Silverstine nodded. “Then please, follow us inside, so we can talk.”

The General bowed slightly and made an inviting gesture towards the left of the large blue tents. In the evening light, the large white lily application on the canvas looked almost pink. Naisula quickly turned to the deer, whispered something inside their ears, and after she patted their necks, the huge animals trotted away to find a place for the night.

Both Cadfael and Naisula did not leave Yrdenne’s side when they followed the Generals and Dalayer into the tent.

To Yrdenne’s surprise, the canvas on the back side of the tent was rolled up to let some air and light inside, and the wooden floor was extended into a little patio. The interior of the tent was rather plain, a simple bed in the corner, a huge wooden chest that served as a bed stand, a rack for armor and weapons at the end of the bed, and a huge table with eight decent but unupholstered chairs in the middle. Yrdenne could not put a finger on it, but she suspected that this was General Silverstine’s tent.

“Please, have a seat,” Silverstine gestured at the table. He sat down on one side, flanked by Dalayer and General Winchester, who still looked as if he’d bitten into a rotting apple.

With a radiant smile, Naisula dropped her backpack, went to the chair on the opposite side of Winchester, leant her quiver against it and hung her bow over the backrest and sat down. Cadfael chose to sit face-to-face with Dalayer, with a smug grin he hung his bag on the chair and turned around to help Yrdenne with her bow and quiver while she took off her knapsack. Only then, Cadfael sat down with a smug grin, crossed his arms in front of his chest and kept on watching the blond man. Dalayer knitted his brows and sent Yrdenne a wondering glance.

Yrdenne had no other choice than sitting between Naisula and Cadfael, facing General Silverstine. Other than his comrades, Silverstine’s expression was relaxed and almost kind.

“I hope you excuse that I did not introduce myself earlier, since Lady Yrdenne knew me, I forgot that you,” he nodded at Naisula and Cadfael, “might not know who we are.

“My Name is General Chadwick Silverstine, and together with General Charles Winchester I command the, well, remains of the Temerian Army. Unfortunately, our Field Marshall was killed in the Nilfgaardian war, and as a part of the peace negotiations, it was decided that Temeria will not appoint someone new for this position.”

“It´s not that no one is capable of leading this army,” General Winchester grunted and squared his back, “But someone decided with two Generals at the top it might be easier to crawl into Nilfgaards rotten ass.”

Only Silverstines flaring nostrils revealed that he might disagree with Winchester. He ignored the comment and continued.

“And I am sure you know Dalayer van Lynden, new Lieutenant general of our forces.”

Surprised, Yrdenne met Dalayer’s gaze.

“You’re not Captain of the Palace Guard anymore?”

Before Dalayer could answer, Winchester bellowed a laughter.

“This clever young man finally decided to follow the path his father always wanted for him. It was long overdue, that the last van Lynden-spawn joined the Temerian forces. And his knowledge as a former Knight of the Flaming Rose will be of great use!”

At the mention of his father, Dalayer cringed, but he nodded.

“There was not much left for me in Vizima, and when Roche decided to gather the troops in Northern Temeria, I took the chance.”

“Which raises the question, why is Temeria gathering their forces in the North now, after you left land and people for the wolves for so long?” Cadfael leant forward and did not take his eyes off Dalayer when he spoke.

General Winchester’s eyes narrowed to slits and he inhaled to respond, but Silverstine was faster.

“Before we set out our stall, we would like to know what the Court Physician of Temeria is doing here and why she consorts with Dol Blathanna and Brokilon?”

Yrdenne held her head up high and folded her hands on the table, to hide that her fingers were slightly trembling. She knew nothing could happen to her, here, but Cadfael’s sublte aggressions caused an uneasy feeling in her guts.

“I am sure you learned about the illness that is raging in Mahakam, and also Redania. A few weeks ago, ambassadors from Mahakam asked me to join their search for a cure, since I know many healers and medics all over the Northern Realms.” Yrdenne paused a moment and looked from Silverstine to Winchester, pondering what they knew about Moira and Ennis, and what she could tell them. “Due to unforeseen circumstances, we had to change our route and, on the way to Oxenfurt, we met a group of refugees from Novigrad. Among them was a fellow healer, one of the most capable ones I know, and he who told us of the horrors happening in Redania. He suggested going to Brokilon, to ask the dryads for help.”

While she spoke, the expression of Silverstine darkened and he frowned.

“The refugees you mentioned reached Vizima, together with the dwarves. The report of Brouver Hoog’s nephew was alarming, especially the news regarding the black armored warriors that roam Northern Temeria…” Cadfael laughed out loud and rolled his eyes.

“It´s alarming that the Purple Lantern, how the black armored call themselves, make trouble in the North for about a year now and the Temerian court was too self-absorbed to see it! The first refugees fleeing from them reached Dol Blathanna last autumn!” he snapped with a dangerous sparkle in his eyes.

Dalayer squared his back and reached for a knife on his belt, and General Winchester slammed his hands on the table as if he wanted to jump up at Cadfael’s throat.

Yrdenne quickly laid her hand on Cadfael’s arm and General Silverstine raised both hands to calm everyone down. While Winchester managed to stay quiet, Dalayer was furious.

“So is that the reason for your invasion in Temeria? Instead of informing the Temerian officials, Dol Blathanna sends their military? Your ambassadors made it to Mahakam and Tretogor, why didn´t they come to Vizima?” he snarled and jumped up.

“Dol Blathanna didn´t send ambassadors anywhere,” Cadfael replied calmly, but he raised an eyebrow and glanced at Yrdenne, “And the Temerian officials in the North, the guards included, collaborate with the Purple Lantern in terrorizing and murdering non-humans.”

“Dalayer, please sit down. I see, there are some issues to clarify,” Silverstine cleared this throat, while Dalayer did as he was told. “The Temerian court was informed about the conditions in the Northern areas only recently, which lead to the decision to increase the military presence. Previously, this task fell under the jurisdiction of La Valette. Unfortunately, Castle La Valette and the troops deployed there do not respond to our call and we assume that they were… infiltrated by the enemy.”

Yrdenne throat bobbed and Cadfael’s cocky smile vanished.

“They… they took La Valette?” asked Yrdenne and looked from Silverstine to Dalayer. Castle la Valette, where she was supposed to go with Cjardeth. Suddenly, it made sense that Dalayer left Vizima.

“When Moira and Ennis told us what happened, we decided that it was too dangerous to continue the search for a cure. They said you wanted to go to La Valette, so Malik sent someone to bring you home,” the trembling in Dalayer’s voice was barely audible, but Yrdenne noticed it immediately, and she saw the worry in his eyes. “That´s how we found out that we lost La Valette. Malik’s spy returned and told us you were either dead or captured.”

“And you came to save her? How adorable,” Cadfael propped his head on his hand and blinked a few times. The glance he sent Yrdenne made her nauseous. She could swear as soon as Dalayer got his hands on Cadfael, he would cut his throat. Or break his other cheekbone.

General Silverstine raised his eyebrows over Cadfael’s words, but decided that he did not want to make Dalayer’s motivation a topic of their conversation.

“However, the situation is strained. And, indeed, we were informed about the first cases of the illness in Temeria recently. Since you left Brokilon and are accompanied by a dryad, can we assume you know how to treat this mysterious disorder, Lady Yrdenne?” Silverstine’s look was piercing, but he still managed to sound polite and kind. Yrdenne shifted her weight and took a breath.

“My friend from Novigrad gave me some interesting information about the illness before he was murdered by the Purple Lantern. And in Brokilon, we could determine some very unsettling characteristics of this disorder…” Yrdenne paused, unsure how much these men understood about medicine, or magic. General Winchester looked at her like she spat into his beer, but the hint of a smile on Silverstine’s lips encouraged her to continue. “The origin of the illness is magic, and we assume that mages and sorceresses would be able to see an infection before the first symptoms show. To be honest, I believe that the political and ethical purge of people with magic abilities might be a reason why this early symptom went unnoticed. Aglaïs, a dryad gifted with healing, suggested that dimeritium provides protection, at least to some extent.”

“Pah, we always knew those filthy mages would get back on the people for Radovid’s excess! We should have continued his path to protect the people!” growled Winchester and slammed his hands on the table. Yrdenne instantly regretted what she revealed.

“Excuse me, _General,_ ” it was Naisula who spoke up to him. She squared her back and held her head up high while she locked eyes with Winchester. “But what Yrdenne tried to explain is, that if there were still enough mages around, the illness would have never become such a threat to public life in Redania. Now, because of the inglorious attempt to eradicate magic, no one is able to detect the illness early enough for decent treatment and no one actually can treat it. And if someone is, they are most likely too scared to make it public. Currently, the wealthy seem to escape the illness because they were able and allowed to own dimeritium, though, it won´t take long until they get sick, too. Or, how I would phrase it, you humans fucked it up and, again, the non-humans are the first to pay for it. But for sure, not for long.”

General Winchester’s face turned crimson red.

“That still doesn´t explain why you are traveling Northern with an elf and a dryad and not back home to Vizima!” spat Dalayer and gestured at Cadfael, “Yrdenne, we were worried sick!”

Cadfael did not give Yrdenne a chance to reply to that.

“A unit from Dol Blathanna was attacked by the Purple Lantern. They took hostages, and our surviving warriors got sick. Only one survivor made it to Brokilon to call for aid, so we set out to find them. Yrdenne was so kind and offered her help,” explained Cadfael, still calm, and Yrdenne was surprised how diplomatic he sounded. “Now that we know Dol Blathanna is not fighting the Purple Lantern alone anymore, I am sure my General would appreciate a collaboration with the Temerian forces. However, without Yrdenne’s and Naisula’s help, our unit is lost.” He folded his hands in front of his stomach and eagerly looked from Silverstine to Winchester, totally ignoring Dalayer.

“Of how many warriors are we talking about here? And where are they deployed? Is there a camp?” Winchester’s eyes narrowed to slits again and he pinched his chin. “I mean, are we talking about a hand full of elf scouts or did you bring an entire army into our realm?”

Naisula took a deep breath and Yrdenne sent a worried glance at Cadfael.

“Unfortunately, I don´t know any numbers, only a vague location somewhere in a forest, close to an ancient Aen Seidhe side.” A brief chuckle flitted across Cadfael’s face, he knew exactly that everyone thought he lied.

“And your _General_ is there, too?” Dalayer’s questions were directed at Cadfael, but he looked Yrdenne straight into the eyes. She clenched her jaws.

“If he survived, yes,” there was a warning growl in Cadfael’s voice.

General Silverstine took a deep breath.

“Thank you for being so open about your intentions,” he said a little too loud, “I see why you are in a hurry. If you wish, we can offer you shelter for the night, and soldiers to accompany you, tomorrow.”

Soldiers to spy on us and to report the location and numbers of the camp, thought Yrdenne. She glanced at Cadfael, but again he stayed diplomatic.

“Thank you for the kind offer. We are glad that we don´t have to spend another night in the open. But please understand that I cannot, I must not expose my comrades to foreign forces while they are in such a vulnerable condition. We will send a delegation to you as soon as we know the situation is safe.”

“Of course, I understand,” Silverstine nodded, “There should be plenty of room in the sick bay, Dalayer can show you the tent. Feel free to move about within the camp, and to join us for supper at the bonfire. Please excuse me now, I have to leave for a private conversation with General Winchester.”

With these words, Silverstine got up and bowed his head before he left, followed by Winchester. As soon as they were out of the tent, Dalayer stood up, too.

“Yrdenne, can I have you for a moment?” He glanced at Cadfael. “Alone?”

Yrdenne’s heart was pounding. Cadfael bored his teeth at Dalayer while he walked around the table to offer Yrdenne his hand. Hesitating, she took it and let Dalayer help her to get up.

“Sure. Can Naisula and Cadfael wait here for me?”

“Of course. We will be back in an instant.” 

Dalayer did not let go of her hand when he led her into the air through the open backside of the tent. With every step away from Naisula and Cadfael, a lump grew in Yrdenne’s throat and her heart begun to flutter. A part of her was glad to see Dalayer, but she knew his presence would make everything even more difficult.

The sky had turned into a dark blue and the paths of the camp were already lit by man-high torches. In silence, they walked across the space behind the tents of the Generals’ until Dalayer stopped next to a torch. When Yrdenne glanced over her shoulder, she saw that Cadfael stood on the patio of the tent and watched them.

For a moment, Dalayer only stood in front of her and looked into her eyes. He took a deep breath.

“Yrdenne, what the actual hell are you thinking? What do you think, how did I feel when everyone who sat out with you came back, except you? For weeks, I did not know if you were dead or alive, or hurt, or captured!” His voice wasn´t angry, but utterly desperate. “Was it so difficult to send a note, at least?” Slowly, he raised his hand and brushed a loose strand of her from her face. “I thought I lost you. The past weeks were a living nightmare.”

The corner of Yrdenne’s mouth twitched.

“It´s awful, isn´t it? Now, extent this feeling to the time of five years. You get the idea.” She pulled her hand from him and wrapped her arms around her body. “Brokilon is not covered by the Temerian mail service, so I could not send a message. Believe me, I would have if it was possible.”

With a sigh, Dalayer dropped his shoulders.

“I understand. I just… I missed you, Yrdenne. I began to regret letting you leave alone the moment you left Vizima. If you had died…” He closed his eyes for a moment to expel the thought from his mind. “I am glad that you are here.” Gently, he cupped her face with one hand and leant in to kiss her, but Yrdenne turned her head away, put a hand on Dalayer’s chest and slightly pushed him away.

“Dalayer… please. It´s not the time and place.” She realized that, at some point, she needed to explain him that they had no future together, that it was over once and for all. 

Puzzled, Dalayer stared at her and pulled his hands back.

“Is it because of him?” He nodded at Cadfael, who was still watching her. “Are you and he…?”

“By the gods, no!” she blurted and cringed, “Dalayer, no. Cadfael has the order to protect me, that´s all. He is not even a friend. But currently, I don´t have the mental space to deal with what’s between us. Tomorrow we will set out to save the elves, and that´s my highest priority.” She forced herself to meet Dalayer’s gaze and tried to smile, her hand still resting on his chest. The chainmail felt cold under her palm.

“Then I will walk this path with you. Let me come with you and fight this battle by your side.” Again, he raised his hands, but this time he laid them on her shoulders. His look was pleading.

“I can´t decide that, we have to ask Cadfael,” she said, because she knew Cadfael would say no.

A storm was raging in Dalayer’s grey eyes, and Yrdenne saw how he loathed to depend on an elf’s approval.

“All right. At least, it’s Dol Blathanna and not some bunch of Scoia´tael this time…” Dalayer murmured and shrugged his shoulders. Baffled, Yrdenne watched how Dalayer turned around and walked over to Cadfael. It took her an instant to process what happened before she hurried to catch up with Dalayer. Cadfael would not allow Dalayer to join them, would he?

She reached them just in time to hear his answer.

“Yrdenne told me we can trust you. I am not entirely comfortable with taking a dh’oine to my people, so be warned that if you give me the slightest suspicion of working against us, I will happily behead you. Besides that, you are free to come with us.” A smug grin appeared on Cadfael’s face when he noticed Yrdenne approaching them behind Dalayer’s back. She stared at him with wide eyes and open mouthed.

“Or do you see any problem, Yrdenne?” Cadfael asked a little louder and coked his head. Dalayer turned around and Yrdenne tried to relax her expression.

“No… not at all,” she pressed through her teeth and tried to smile. He didn´t do that, did he? He would not bring Dalayer to the camp – to Iorveth?

“Though, there is one thing I would like to discuss with you,” Cadfael’s face turned stern, “Excuse us for a moment.” With that, he brushed Dalayer out of his way, walked to Yrdenne and pushed her forward, so she would go with him.

“I think there is something you should know,” Cadfael mumbled and only stopped when they were out of Dalayer’s hearing range. With his back towards Dalayer, Cadfael fished something out of a pocked in his gambeson. It was a small leather pouch. He paid attention to block Dalayer’s view on what he did.

“When we captured you and chained you to that tree, I went through your bags to see who you were. I found this,” he raised he pouch, “I didn´t think much of it, until Iorveth told me who you are. He didn’t mention the romance part of your story, so I decided the content of this pouch was not of interest for him. But Idris was there when we looted your bags and later came to me and told me to, under no circumstances, show Iorveth the documents inside because he would go postal. Of course it was too promising to not do it. So, I gave Iorveth the documents and insisted him to read them.” With every word, Yrdenne became more nervous. An uneasy felling spread in her guts and she felt nauseous.

“What IS that, Cadfael?”

Wordless, he handed her the little pouch. She could tell there were papers inside, the documents he mentioned, but also something heavy. With trembling fingers, Yrdenne opened the pouch and poured the content on her palm. A ring fell out. A signet ring, and the crest was oddly familiar.

With a pounding heart, she pulled the papers out of the pouch. They were folded three times, and her fingers were trembling so much that Cadfael had to take the pouch and the ring from her, so Yrdenne could finally open it.

“Cadfael, what the–”

Yrdenne froze when she recognized Dalayer’s handwriting. That had been in her bag? Without her noticing it? Then she remembered how Dalayer had stored the other document of the Court Writer in her bag, at her departure. She felt a lump in her throat when she started reading the letter.

_Yrdenne, my beloved,_

_after I left your chamber tonight, I regretted every word I said. Even though I understand why you leave, there are things I need you to know: It´s you who gives my life a reason. You are the light that brightens my life when everything else drowns in darkness. The past years with you were more than I have ever hoped for. I know you need time to make a commitment, but I started dreaming of a future with you._

_I dream of you as my wife, I want no one else to be the mother of my children than you. Last summer, I secretly started to renovate the manor of my family, so that I could offer you a home. With this letter, you find the signet ring of my family, which I commissioned as a wedding band for you, just in case. I was so utterly scared to tell you about my hopes, because I was afraid it would drive you away from me. But now, I want you to know that all this is waiting for you, once you come back to Vizima. If you want to._

_To ensure your safety, and to open doors where the title of the Court Physician is not enough, I attached a document that will prove your status to whomever. My name and title are yours to use to reach your aim._

_With all the love I have to give,_

_Dalayer_

While reading the letter, Yrdenne’s heart raced and raged inside her chest. She hadn´t known any of this. Her hands were still shaking when she looked at the second paper through a veil of tears.

“Is that… a marriage certificate?” Her throat bobbed and she felt like vomiting.

“It says you are the Lady Yrdenne van Lynden, wife and equal of Lord Dalayer van Lynden,” Cadfael confirmed while his fingers played with the ring.

“And Iorveth read this?” Her voice cracked and she gasped for breath. Cadfael just nodded.

“I think so. But I also assumed he’d return it to you. I was rather surprised when he gave it to me before he left Brokilon. He told me to return it, and to remind you of what he asked you.”

“Iorveth believes I am going to marry Dalayer? By the gods, please tell me this isn´t true…” Everything around Yrdenne faded to black. She could only imagine how Iorveth felt when he read the letter. An image flashed through her head, of Iorveth shuffling a piece of paper away when she entered his tent in the camp. That was only moments before he freaked out…

“What have you done?”

“I wanted to hurt him, like he hurt me,” snarled Cadfael, but then he cocked his head. “But what did he ask you?”

Yrdenne closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She tried to remember what Aglaïs had told her about breathing, and how to centre herself. It took her a few breaths before she was able to answer.

“Iorveth said I should take into account that he has nothing to offer. No wealth and no house, no place to call home. And that if I found someone who could provide all that to me and give me the life I deserve, he wants me to choose a safe life over a life with him.”

Instead of comforting her, Cadfael rolled his eyes.

“Even in defeat he has to be the hero. That´s so typical. But good for you, so you can marry the Lord.”

“I did not even know he´s a fucking Lord!” she hissed, and lower she added, “And I don´t want to marry him.”

“You want to tell me you hooked up with Temerian nobility, did not even know it and then forgot to break up?” Cadfael laughed out.

“Cadfael, it´s you who doesn´t know anything! Iorveth is responsible for the death of Dalayer’s father and brother, and I broke up with Dalayer five years ago, when I found him torturing Iorveth. The last time, Iorveth ended on a stake and Dalayer on a surgery table! Giving Iorveth that letter did not hurt him, it shattered him! And it´s not even true, because I am not going to marry him! Why couldn´t you tell me about this gods damned letter before you invited Dalayer to come with us?”

The cocky smile on Cadfael’s face faded.

“Wait, Yrdenne, slowly. So you tell me this man is not just some random guy who warmed your bed and fell in love with you? Iorveth and he know each other?”

“Do you actually think this is a joke?” Yrdenne huffed and ran her hands through her hair. “No, he isn´t. Imagine you got back together with him just to find out that he’s suddenly marrying Seregthiel!”

Cadfael locked his eyes with hers, the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Then you probably will not find it as funny as I do that Seregthiel is waiting for Iorveth in Dol Blathanna and probably gave birth to his child recently?” He buried his face in his palms and shook his head. “I can´t help it. You two truly deserve each other.”


	24. The Hidden Path

Yrdenne clenched her jaws. Having a name and a face to the female that would give Iorveth what she couldn´t – a family, and a home – hurt, but not more than the whole situation had hurt before. She knew Iorveth loved her. After what had been in Brokilon, she did not doubt that, if things were different, he would choose her.  
“I know about the child. Iorveth and I both have been lost and lonely. Things like that… happen.”  
Cadfael raised his eyebrows and cocked his head.  
“He told you about that? How surprising. I did not expect he has the guts to be honest. He didn’t when we were together and, instead, I walked in on him fucking her,” Cadfael spat the last sentence like they were poison. The flickering light of the torch next to them reflected in his eyes and made him look like a demon of wrath. But Yrdenne also saw how heartbroken he was, even after all those decades. She felt a lump in her throat.  
“No, he didn´t. Idris told me, when I left them camp… You elves seem to have a kink for messing with other people’s lives.” She shook her head and her hands curled into fists. “Do you even have an idea what awaits us in the camp? Your sisters and brothers might be injured, sick, dying. And yes, with that I mean Iorveth, too. And you invite the Lieutenant general of the Temerian army to join us, a man who put Iorveth in chains and brought him on the stake. A man who still has a score to settle with him and who is in love with the same woman. Congratulations, what a chaos.”  
Cadfael’s expression darkened and he bore his teeth at her.  
“It´s not like at least half of that chaos is your fault! You let this man in your bed, not I!”  
His words were a punch in her face. Because he was right.  
“Fuck you, Cadfael!” Yrdenne yelled loud enough for at least Dalayer and Naisula to hear. Her chest was heaving when she turned around and hasted to Dalayer.   
He watched the scenery from the patio, arms crossed in front of his chest.  
“I dare you to tell him anything, Yrdenne!” Cadfael barked, but he did not come after her.  
Dalayer met her gaze with knitted brows.   
“Any problems?” he asked when Yrdenne reached him. Yrdenne hesitated, but then she nodded.  
“Dalayer, just hypothetically… If you knew about a foreign army base in Temeria, but did not tell Silverstine, or Winchester, or anyone else, would that be treason?”  
The last word made Dalayer cringe and he looked left and right to see who might have overheard it. Horror-stricken, he grabbed her shoulders and locked his eyes with her.  
“Yrdenne, what the hell did you get into, again? I don´t need to tell you that, this time, I am with the good guys, do I?” Dalayer hissed with a low voice.  
Pleading, she met his gaze and laid her hands on his chest.  
“There are things you need to know, before you decide to go with us. And if you decide you don´t want to, you must not tell anyone else about it.”  
“Yrdenne, I can´t…” - “Dalayer, this is not a joke. The last thing we need is the Temerian army going after us!”  
Dalayer sighed. “All right. If the only condition to be allowed to go with you is treason, so it be.”   
He raised his hand and caressed her face. Yrdenne shivered, cupped his hand with hers and gently drew it away from her face. She took a deep breath before she spoke.  
“We are not searching for a small group of elven warriors. In a forest not far from here is a permanent military base of Dol Blathanna. I don´t know how many warriors are deployed there, but I assume it´s twice as much as you have. The camp is disguised and protected with spells by a group of Aen Savherne, but we don´t know if the spells are still intact.” Her throat bobbed when she saw how Dalayer’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth, but she quickly shocked her head and spoke on.  
“My visit there caused… trouble. For some reason, the Purple Lantern was after me, and the Dol Blathanna General and about a dozen of his warriors left the camp to protect me. We fought men of the Purple Lantern at the border of Brokilon and defeated them. But a few days later, they attacked the camp. We don´t know how they found it, and how they overcame the magic shield. We only heard that it was a blood bath, and after the Purple Lantern left, the illness broke out. When a messenger made it to Brokilon and reported the incident, the General decided to go back, but ordered his unit to stay in Brokilon until further notice.”  
Unwittingly, her fingers clawed at Dalayer’s chainmail. Her heart was pounding, but she tried to calm her breath and focus on Dalayer’s eyes.  
“We have no idea what awaits us. Or if there are any…survivors. Dol Blathanna is vulnerable, and if there are any survivors they have better things to do than taking care of any foreign forces. Do you understand that? Their General… you know him, from Novigrad.” She couldn´t. His name was on her tongue, but she could not tell Dalayer, too scared he would lose his temper. Yrdenne saw how his throat bobbed.   
“It´s Isengrim, isn´t it?” he asked, “I already had the suspicion it´s someone I know, when you first mentioned the General. Wolf was so fed up with the Scoia´tael back then in Novigrad, but he is a born leader. It was… impressive to watch him, in those days. And I see why you don´t want Silverstine and Winchester to know.” His voice was so gentle and understanding that the guilt in Yrdenne’s guts made her nauseous. Very slowly, she shook her head. She already saw that the understanding vanished from his eyes before she continued to speak.  
“No Dalayer, it´s not Wolf. The General of Dol Blathanna is Iorveth.”  
The world around them froze. Dalayer pulled his hands back from her, his shoulders dropped and he closed his eyes. Yrdenne held her breath and watched him, knowing everything she would say made it worse for him. It took Dalayer a few moments to free himself from this paralysis. He opened his eyes and took a deep breath, but he struggled to meet her gaze.   
“So you found what you were looking for”, was the first thing he said with a hollow voice, “And again, you protect him at any costs.”  
A sad smile appeared on Yrdenne’s face.  
“Like you would, for me. And I know, I don´t deserve that. That´s why I wanted you to know, before you leave with us. I want you to know what this is about, before you make a decision you might regret.”   
“I am not sure if you are cruel, or if it´s kind that you leave me a choice,” Dalayer mumbled hoarsely. His throat bobbed. “Maybe it’s the fates who are cruel, taking you away from me the moment I got you back. Are you two... official now? Just to know what awaits me.”  
The bitterness in his voice was cutting through Yrdenne’s heart like a hot knife through butter. She hated herself for hurting him, again.  
“No, we are not. It´s… complicated. He ordered Cadfael to keep me from going after him. As I told you, we don´t really know what’s going on in the camp or if there are… any survivors.” Yrdenne swallowed. “And besides that, he has… other commitments in Dol Blathanna.”  
A sneering laughter escaped Dalayer’s mouth.  
“Why doesn´t this surprise me? It´s no secret that elves like to toy around.”  
Yrdenne ignored the scoff.  
“Do you still want to accompany us? I understand if you don´t.”   
To herself, she admitted that she hoped Dalayer would not join them. She highly doubted he could be helpful, regardless what awaited them in the camp. But he just shook his head, and even forced himself to smile a little.  
“This doesn´t change anything, Yrdenne. I enrolled in the Temerian army to find you, but not only because we shared a bed. I consider you a friend. We have been through a lot together, and you are a central part of my life. You and Malik are my family. The only reason he isn´t here yet is, that he has other things to organize. But he and Moira are on their way. We will not let you fight this battle alone.”  
Yrdenne opened her mouth to reply, but she was speechless. Agitated, she reached for his hand and softly squeezed it. Her throat felt sore.  
“Thank you.”  
Dalayer nodded and returned the squeeze before he drew his hand back.  
“Get your bag and your companions, I will show you where you will sleep. At first I wanted to invite you to stay in my tent, but I hope you don´t mind that I ditched that idea.”

Dalayer got an oil lamp and brought them to the sick bay, like General Silverstine suggested. After exchanging some words with the nurses and surgeons, they pointed at a large tent. During and after a battle, it would serve as a surgical suite, but since they were still preparing for the fights, there were no injured to treat and the tent was empty, except of a few un-assembled folding cots.  
“Make yourself at home,” Dalayer said, put the lamp down on a table near the entrance and gestured into the empty space, “I will pick you up at dawn.”  
And with that, he left them alone.

“Are you all right, Yrdenne?” Naisula asked and leant against her friend, her arm wrapped around Yrdenne’s shoulder. “I overheard some snippets of your conversation and I can sense you are pretty tense.”  
Before she replied, Yrdenne sent Cadfael a dooming glare.   
“It turned out that, thanks to Cadfael, Iorveth thinks I am sort of engaged to Dalayer. Without my knowledge, Dalayer snuck a forged marriage certificate in my bag, together with a very cordial letter. Cadfael found the documents and rubbed it into Iorveth’s face. I didn’t know about any of these until now. And Cadfael, even though he knew, did not tell me about it and invited Dalayer to come with us. I had to tell Dalayer about Iorveth, and you can imagine that he’s not overly excited about the situation.” Yrdenne ended her quick summary with a frustrated huff. She dropped her knapsack, bow and quiver right where she stood and slumped down.   
“You make it sound like it´s all my fault!” Cadfael rolled his eyes and dropped his own bag and bedroll to the ground, before he begun to unbuckle his armor.   
“Well, you purposefully try to hurt Iorveth, and drag everyone inside your personal swamp with doing so!” Yrdenne barked and fought the urgent need to throw something at him down.   
“Hej, calm down!” Naisula spoke loud and determined, and her look switched from Cadfael to Yrdenne and back. “Would you please stop squabbling with one another? There are more important things than Yrdenne’s love life! This Dalayer knew what he signed up for, didn´t he? And he agreed to support us, so be thankful. If Iorveth might be hurt by his presence or not doesn´t matter, because maybe he and the rest of Cadfael’s comrades are dead anyway. So shut up already!”  
Conscience-stricken silence filled the tent. Cadfael glanced at Yrdenne, and she glared back.   
“I appreciate the silence,” Naisula sighed and begun to unpack her bedroll.   
Yrdenne knew she should eat something, but she still felt nauseous and drained. So she followed Naisula’s lead, unpacked her bedroll and crawled inside.   
No one bothered to turn the lamp off. Yrdenne way still awake when, after hours of silentness, the oil ran out and the light vanished. Her thoughts circled from Iorveth’s child to Dalayer’s letter and back again, and she begun to wonder if maybe Iorveth was right, and a life with Dalayer was a considerable option. It must have been after midnight, when Yrdenne heard rustling fabric, the thumping noises of a person crawling towards her. Next, she sensed how that someone slumped down next to her.  
“My love, you need to sleep, really,” murmured Naisula before she wrapped her arm around Yrdenne and nestled against her friend. Naisula’s steady breath and her slow heartbeat were contagious, and eventually, Yrdenne dozed off.

As promised, Dalayer woke them up early in the following Morning. He was in full armor and had Cadfael’s and his own horse ready and waiting in front of the tent. The deep blue sky was cloudless, and a bright orange stripe, fading to pink to purple, presaged the rising sun. The atmosphere was still tensed, but while Dalayer watched Cadfael with raised eyebrows, he could spare Yrdenne a brief smile. Without being asked, he put Naisula’s and Yrdenne’s bags on the back of his horse and walked, leading the animal by its reins, until they were out of the camp and Naisula called the deer. He cringed briefly, when she called them with her high pitched cry, but did not hide that he was impressed how Yrdenne and Naisula handled the intimidating animals. Within the past weeks, Yrdenne had detached from her old life in Vizima, and every of her movements revealed how she had changed. The realization that she might have detached from him oozed into Dalayer’s mind and lay heavy on his heart. Not even the smile Yrdenne returned to him could expel this darkness.   
Yrdenne did not fail to notice the sorrow in his gaze, but she knew there was nothing she could do about it. To her, Dalayer’s presence felt strange, like he did not belong to this part of her life, and she hoped he would find his own place in this adventure. Maybe, if he let go of his desired role as her consort, he found his true self again.   
As soon as Naisula and Yrdenne mounted the deer, Cadfael spurred his horse. Even though he didn´t talk much, Yrdenne sensed that he was nervous, almost anxious. He pushed his horse to an almost reckless speed and, even though the deer and Dalayer’s mare were well rested and strong, they had trouble to keep his pace.

In the early afternoon, they reached a forest and Yrdenne immediate recognized the tree line. Her heartrate increased, they were close to the camp. Cadfael, who rode a stone throw ahead, slowed his horse down and waited for Yrdenne, Naisula and Dalayer to catch up.   
“Is everything all right?” Yrdenne asked and looked about, “Any signs of the Purple Lantern?”  
Cadfael shook his head.  
“To figure out if the spells are still working, someone who has not been in the Camp should lead the way from here on. We need to take the next turn right, it’s a wide path leading straight into the forest. If you miss it, the spells are intact.” Cadfael bowed slightly and gestured them to go ahead.  
Yrdenne glanced at Naisula and Dalayer and dug her fingers into the fur of her mount. She did not know if Cjardeth’s blessing was still intact, but she had no doubts she would find the way to Iorveth blind. Dalayer did not waste a second and spurred his horse, while Naisula took the time to send Yrdenne a kind smile and an encouraging nod. Whatever waited for them in this forest, the dryad would not leave Yrdenne’s side. They followed Dalayer and Cadfael brought up the rear.  
In silence, they rode along the forest line, carefully watching their surroundings. Dalayer had the reins of his horse in one hand, while the other one rested on the hilt of his sword. And Yrdenne was sure, Cadfael behind her did the same. 

Yrdenne throat tightened, when she spotted the gaping break in the tree line. The path to the camp. In the corner of her eye, she saw how Naisula’s brow twitched, but the dryad remained silent. Yrdenne mused that, even if the spells were intact, the dryad must be able to sense that something was off here. But with every step Dalayer’s horse made forward, Yrdenne’s heart became lighter, because it meant that he did not see the trail into the forest.  
He had almost past the path when, out of nothing, Dalayer stopped his horse and turned around.  
“It´s here, right?” he asked Cadfael with knitted brows. The elf led his mount next to Dalayer and nodded.   
“Seems like we have a problem,” he confirmed with a growl in his voice. Yrdenne’s heart skipped a beat.  
But Naisula vehemently shock her head.  
“The spells are working. I do see trees here, but something about them is a little off and I can´t feel them. I don´t see the path, though,” the dryad stated.  
When Cadfael raised an eyebrow and looked at Dalayer with a cocked head. A triumphant chuckled flitted across Dalayer’s face, but then his expression turned stern again and he pointed at a tree.  
“Someone marked that tree. I recognized it immediately, because the Order of the Flaming Rose used similar marks.”  
“I don´t see anything,” snarled Cadfael, but he directed his horse closer to the tree.  
“Three piled rocks between the roots, two broken off branches at the side where the hidden path is. And look a little higher, they shot a quarrel into the stem. On their own, these marks might look random, but together they basically scream ‘turn here’,” Dalayer explained and pointed at the respective marks, “Seems like you have a traitor among your people.”  
Cadfael’s expression darkened.   
“Yes, we already suspected something like that. So we better ride fast.”  
With that being said, he spurred his horse and the animal broke into a reckless gallop.


	25. The Illness

“You heard him,” Naisula snarled, a seething darkness filled her eyes, “Let’s hope we get this bastard.”  
She bowed forward and whispered something into her deer’s ear, and an instant later it dashed into the forest. Yrdenne and Dalayer followed her right away.  
To Yrdenne, the chase through the woods seemed to take forever. Her sweaty hands clawed into the fur of her buck, while they raced down the curvy path leading deeper into the forest.

Cadfael dashed though the trees a stone throw ahead of them and was often out of sight when the path took a sharp turn. When Yrdenne suddenly heard him roar like a trapped mountain lion, her heart skipped a beat. Cadfael must have reached the camp, and his desperate scream was bloodcurdling. Moments later, they caught up and immediately saw what shattered him so deeply.  
The huge gate of the Dol Blathanna camp was gone. Not only broken or destroyed, but gone. The two small timbered watchtowers left and right were blackened by soot, like the ground between them.  
But the two winged gate itself was gone, burnt to dust and ashes.  
Within a heartbeat, Yrdenne was by Cadfael’s side. He met her gaze with eyes torn wide open.  
“What happened here?” he rasped.  
But Yrdenne, too, failed to grasp the meaning of this view.   
It was Dalayer who descended his horse, drew his sword and walked towards the gate. Seeing the dh’oine walking right into the camp without hesitation, shock Cadfael out of his paralysis, and he followed Dalayer’s lead. With a few paces, he caught up with Dalayer, sword drawn. Side by side, the elf and the man faced whatever lay ahead.   
“Yrdenne, get your bow,” whispered Naisula. She did not get off the deer, but reached for her bow and drew an arrow from the quiver on her belt. Slowly, the deer followed Dalayer and Cadfael.  
Yrdenne felt like drowning. Her heart was racing and, no matter how deeply she inhaled, she could barely breath. The bow in her hand seemed to be too heavy to hold it. She sent a brief prayer to Melitele, when her buck began to move forward.

Behind the gaping hole in the palisades that had been the gate, a battlefield awaited them. The tents close to the gate were burnt down, and the ground was freckled by pools of dried blood, soot, and ashes. A swath of destruction led through the camp, following a very certain path.  
“They came for the Aen Savherne,” hissed Cadfael through his teeth.   
Yrdenne looked around, scanned the camp and realized, that the trail of death followed the main path of the camp towards the parade ground – and the Sacred Hall. He was right. The tents and cabins further away from this path were still intact, and the chaos lead to the stone quarry.   
“Do you think anyone survived?” asked Dalayer and frowned.  
His question was answered an instant later.

“By the gods, it’s Cadfael!” yelled a voice, and a blond warrioress stepped out of cover behind a wrecked tent. Startled, Cadfael swirled around and Dalayer raised his sword.   
In an instant, the blonde female was framed by warriors with elvish longbows aiming at them. Naisula made attempt to draw her bow, but Yrdenne met her gaze and shock her head. She noticed the relief on Cadfael’s face.  
“Rina, you are alive!”, Cadfael blurted and almost smiled. Quickly, he sheathed his sword and hurried to greet the warrioress, Dalayer followed him hesitating. The archers by her side kept aiming at Yrdenne and Dalayer and more elves came running from a larger tent in the distance. Among them, a red-haired female. Naisula’s face lit up.  
“Lìosa!”   
Within a heartbeat the arrow was back in Naisula’s quiver. Ignoring the archers, she jumped off her mounts back and ran to greet Lìosa without thinking twice. With an excited squeak, they crashed into each other’s arms.   
Yrdenne took a deep breath when she saw that the archers relaxed and lowered their bows, but she was aware, that they would keep an sceptical eye on Dalayer and her. Slowly, Yrdenne descended from her deer, hung the bow over her shoulder and joined Dalayer, Cadfael and Rina.  
“Cadfael, what are you doing here? Iorveth said you would stay in Brokilon,” Rina asked after she welcomed Cadfael with a brief embrace. When her gaze flitted to Yrdenne and Dalayer, her expression darkened. “And who are your companions? They are dh’oine. Isn´t that the woman” – “Rina, they are friends,” Cadfael cut her off, “They came to help us.”  
Rina glared at Yrdenne and raised an eyebrow, but decided it was not the time to further discuss the presence of dh’oine in their war camp.  
“Let’s get away from the gate. It’s not safe to linger here in broad daylight. I will send someone to get your horses.” Rina pointed at the larger tent. “We have a new command tent, since the old one is in the restricted area.”  
“Restricted area?” Yrdenne asked and knitted her brows.  
Rina pursed her lips when she turned to Yrdenne.  
“The illness broke out. We decided to put a part of the camp in quarantine to protect the healthy survivors of the battle. The quarantine area is restricted for everyone else, and whoever sets a foot there is not allowed to leave it again.” As if it was no big issue, Rina gestured into the distance. It did not take much for Yrdenne to realize that it was the direction where Iorveth’s tent used to be when he was here the last time. It was the former command tent. 

“They are without any medical aid?” Baffled, Yrdenne stared at the blond female.   
“Some healers volunteered to stay with the sick warriors. They have a decent amount of provisions and water. That´s all we can do for them,” Rina crossed her arms in front of her chest.   
The crowd of elves around them became larger and all those suspicious eyes watching them made Yrdenne uncomfortable. She scanned their faces and was relieved when she recognized two former Scoiat’tael from Novigrad among them. But no one else seemed familiar.  
“And where is Iorveth?” she asked right away. She could not imagine Iorveth would not come running if someone yelled Cadfael’s name through the camp…  
“He is with them,” Rina nodded towards the restricted area again, “As our general, he decided to stay with those who need him the most. He passed the command to Lìosa.”   
Horror stricken, Yrdenne stared at Rina, she felt like an invisible force ripped her heart out of her chest. Of course he was with them. What else did she expect?  
“Cadfael, tell Naisula I need her to stay in this area of the camp, and have someone bring me my baggage,” she mumbled.   
Cadfael looked at her with raised eyebrows. It was Dalayer who understood immediately what Yrdenne was about to do. Wide-eyed, he opened his mouth and reached for her hand, but he was not fast enough.  
“Yrdenne, no!”   
His yell vanished unheard. Like a whirl-wind, Yrdenne swirled around and started running.   
She did not care about the restrictions, and she did not care if she would be trapped inside that quarantine area. All she knew was that she had to find Iorveth.   
Cadfael and Dalayer only needed to exchange one look, they shared a simultaneous nod and followed her right away.

Careless of what happened behind her, Yrdenne dashed through the camp. When she reached the improvised fence that marked the border of the restricted area, she hurdled over it and ignored the yell of a nearby sentinel. For an instant she wondered if they needed sentinels to keep the survivors out – or to keep the sick inside. But why would she care?   
The fence that separated the camp looked like it was made from debris and shattered furniture. In the restricted area, everything looked messier, with items and slats laying around between the tents. In the corner of her eye, Yrdenne spotted a large tent with a large crescent moon, its opening facing upwards, and a camomile blossom painted on the canvas, the Aen Seidhe symbol of healers. In front of the tent stood some elves who looked in her direction, but she did not care.   
Neither did she know that Cadfael and Dalayer were on her tail. Even though their heavy armor slowed them down, they followed her into the restricted area without hesitation. 

When Iorveth’s tent was in sight, Yrdenne slowed down. Each step became heavier than the previous, and with a pounding heart she stopped a stone throw away from the entrance. Now that she was here, she hesitated. Dalayer was the first to reach her, but Cadfael was by her side an instant later.  
“Yrdenne… are you sure you want to go inside?”, Dalayer asked and laid his hand on her shoulder. He was panting, strands of hair hung into his red face. Even though he knew that this was about Iorveth, he did not want her to face whatever awaited her alone. A smile flitted across her face.  
“Yes I am.”  
Cadfael looked around and scanned every tent and stone for a sign of his other comrades.  
“Do you think… he is in there?” 

“The last time I saw him was two days ago,” said a voice. A female elf approached them. She wore simple green trousers and white tunic and a brunette braid fell over her shoulder. Yrdenne recognized her as Idris’ friend Deryn.  
“Hello Deryn,” replied Cadfael with a strange snarl in his voice, “Good to see you alive and well. What happened two days ago?”  
Yrdenne remembered that he was not very fond of Idris and his Scoia’tael friends.  
Deryn’s eyes wandered from Cadfael to Yrdenne and Dalayer. She carried a basked with some fruits, bread and a clay pitcher, probably with water.   
“Iorveth helped taking care of the injured, and those who caught the illness. Quickly, be begun to feel unwell. Two days ago, he secluded himself from us. You know how he is, Cadfael…” Deryn sighed, “He ordered me to bring him food twice a day, but forbid me to set a foot step into his tent. He… he didn´t take his food inside yesterday.”  
Hearing this, Yrdenne begun to feel nauseous. She knew very well how Iorveth was, way too proud and too stubborn to take help. He would rather die alone, than having anyone risking their health to help him.   
“I need to go in there. I need to know if he is still alive,” Yrdenne stated with a hoarse voice. Her hand gasped the Brokilon jasper on her chest, a reminder that the illness could not harm her.  
“I won´t let you go alone,” Dalayer said and squeezed her shoulder. Relieved, Yrdenne turned her head to meet his gaze and sent him a warm-hearted smile.  
“There are not enough words to thank you… but the Illness is contagious. My necklace protects me, but I won´t let you nor Cadfael near anyone who is sick without a Brokilon jasper or dimeritium.” She cupped his hand on her shoulder with hers. “I could not stand if you got sick, too.”  
Yrdenne expected Dalayer to protest, but instead he pulled his left gauntlet off and showed her his hand. He wore a signet ring on his index finger, very similar to the one Yrdenne received with his letter.  
“My family has a history of rather racist and anti-magic believes. Since I left the Order, I came to question many things I was taught. But now I am rather happy that my father had the signet rings for my brother and I made of dimeritium. I am not afraid of this illness.”

Cadfael’s throat bobbed as he swallowed.   
“How lucky I am that the Naisula seems to like me.” He fumbled at the collar of his gambeson and pulled a greenish stone on a leather band from underneath his clothes. Yrdenne raised her eyebrows. Was that one of the stones she got from Aglaïs? Cadfael continued, “She slipped it into my palm this morning, before we left the Temerian camp. I will go with you, too. I already disobeyed Iorveth’s orders, so how mad can he be?”  
Yrdenne nodded, a heavy weight was lifted from her shoulders and she had to admit to herself that she was glad she was glad about Dalayer’s and Cadfael’s company.  
“Good luck,” Deryn knitted her brows. “If you need anything, don´t hesitate to come to the sickbay.”  
Yrdenne thanked her, then she took a deep breath and walked to the entrance of Iorveth’s tent. When she opened the canvas, hot and stifling air gushed out. She hesitated.   
“Dalayer, Cadfael… can you give me a moment alone?”   
If he was in there, and sick, for sure Dalayer and Cadfael were not the first people Yrdenne wanted Iorveth to see. She did not wait for their response, but took another deep breath and entered the tent.

Inside, it was even hotter than she expected, and the smell of disease lingered in the air. It took a moment until her eyes got used to the dim twilight, and what she saw clenched her heart.  
Documents were spread over the huge table, one chair was fallen over, as if someone had tried to support himself on the backrest, but fell down anyway. And at the headend of the table stood a plate with food, circled by buzzing flies. The bread had dark spots, maybe mould, and the patchy fruits would be infested with maggots in a day or two. Yrdenne shuddered.   
The further she went, the worse got the smell.   
It was a smell she knew too well from the hospital in Oxenfurt, the stench of blood, excretion, sweat and sickness. The stench of nearing death. Her chest felt clenched and she took her knapsack off to drop it on one of the chairs.  
With shaking knees, Yrdenne made one step after another towards the doorway to Iorveth’s chamber. The curtain that separated the chamber from the meeting room was torn down, and pieces of clothing and paper sheets were spread all over the floor of the meeting room. Next to the armor rack lay some pieces of Iorveth’s armor, as if he had crashed against the rack and knocked them off.  
Except of the buzzing of the flies and her own shallow breath, there was no sound inside the tent. No life sign of Iorveth.

If it wasn´t for him, Yrdenne would not have found the strength to walk into the chamber. But if he was still alive, he needed her more than ever. Slowly, Yrdenne continued her way.  
When she reached the doorway, she had free sight at the inside of Iorveth’s room, and at the huge bed in the centre of the back wall.  
A horror-stricken outcry escaped her mouth, when she saw a lifeless figure laying on the sheets.   
Iorveth.

He lay on his back, his legs and body were half-tangled in a blanket, his arms spread and twisted like he had suffered agonizing cramps. But now, he was motionless. Soundless. Silent.  
Yrdenne’s heart was in her mouth. She rushed to his side, fell on her knees next to the bed at stared at him. Iorveth’s face was distorted in pain, or panic, or maybe both. His mouth open, as if he bore his teeth at an invisible enemy, but his eye was closed.  
Yrdenne was thankful for the bad light, so she was unable to recognize if the dark patterns on the sheets were flower-embroidery or stains of blood – or else. Her hands hovered over his chest but she did not dare to touch him.

Behind her, Cadfael and Dalayer rumbled through the meeting room and burst into the chamber, alarmed by her scream. They stopped right at the doorway and stared at the scenery that awaited them. Cadfael gagged loudly and covered his mouth with his hand.  
“Yrdenne… I am so sorry… is he…?” Dalayer rasped, but he, too, was so shocked by Iorveth’s condition that he was unable to speak a clear sentence.  
Yrdenne did not turn around, she only shrugged her shoulders. The air was hot and stifling and filled with the choking stench of disease and death, and seeing him like that was more than she could bear. Every fibre of her body wanted to scream out loud, to cry, to throw herself on the ground. But she couldn´t, she was paralyzed.   
It took a lot of effort to force herself to touch Iorveth. The stained shirt he wore was open over his chest, so she gently laid her hand right over his heart. She tried to feel his heartbeat, but her trembling hand made it impossible to sense anything. Carefully she moved her hand to his neck to find his pulse, but again her shaking fingers failed her.  
“Iorveth, please…” Yrdenne’s voice was only a whisper, “Please be alive.”  
Her hand slid higher and cupped his face, softly, she stroked his scarred cheek with her thumb.  
“Yrdenne, maybe we should get out of here…” mumbled Dalayer and made a step towards her.  
In that moment, Iorveth slightly moved his head, and his eyelids twitched. Yrdenne held her breath and moved her hand to his beck again to feel his pulse.   
“He is alive,” she murmured, and her eyes filled with tears. With a pounding heart she turned to Dalayer and Cadfael. “He is alive!” she repeated louder.  
It was the moment when Cadfael lost it. He twirled around and stormed away, and, an instant later, Yrdenne and Dalayer heard him vomit outside the tent.  
“What a wimp,” Dalayer huffed and rolled his eyes, then he drew a knife. Yrdenne tore her eyes wide open.  
“Dalayer, what are you doing?” she gasped and stared at the weapon.  
Dalayer met her gaze. Maybe it was the dim light, but she was convinced to see how a certain kind of bitterness flitted across his face. Dalayer looked down at Iorveth.  
“He needs air,” was all he said, and then he turned to the wall of the tent. With three strokes he cut a flap into the canvas, that collapsed immediately, and a breeze of fresh air gushed into the tent.   
“I thought I open the windows for him,” Dalayer added and proceeded to walk across the room, to cut another window into the opposite wall.   
Oxygen and light flooded the room. 

Yrdenne’s gaze returned to Iorveth, and awestruck she noticed that his features relaxed a little, and his chest was heaving visibly. Even though he was unconscious, he sensed the change. Maybe he sensed her. Softly, Yrdenne laid her hand back on his chest and her own heart begun to flutter when she finally sensed his heartbeat. It was weak at first, but Yrdenne was convinced it became stronger with every beat.

“This is a nightmare.” Cadfael returned, his voice was still shaking. When Yrdenne turned around, she was surprised how bad he looked. Horror-stricken and his face pale as bones. “We have to get him out of this mess.”  
Dalayer, who stayed near the second window he just cut into the canvas of the tent, nodded and sheathed his knife.   
“Yrdenne, you are the healer. Tell us how we can help you. And him.”  
Silently, Yrdenne ran her eyes over Iorveth’s tormented body. The illness had claimed its toll from him. Through all the years, she had feared to find him dying, or injured, but not like this.  
“We need to clean this room, the whole tent. We need to wash him, get him out of this… filth.” Her throat bobbed. “Only then I can even start thinking of a treatment.”  
Dalayer and Cadfael looked at each other, and then back at Iorveth and Yrdenne.  
“Dalayer and I will take care of the… cleaning. You should go to the sickbay and figure out if they have what you need to made medicine. Or maybe raid Dwynwen’s storage,” Cadfael suggested. He was still pale, but a soft smile appeared on his lips. Yrdenne frowned and looked at Dalayer. Did she really want to leave these two alone with Iorveth?  
“Are you sure? I can help you.”  
Dalayer came to her side and laid his hand on her shoulder.   
“He would not want you to clean this. And… him,” his voice was kind but determined. When he realized that Yrdenne did not understand what he meant, Dalayer continued. “Do you remember the time in the sickbay of Novigrad, after my injury? I could barely walk and basically needed assistance with everything.”  
Yrdenne nodded, still frowning.  
“I was fine with you helping me to eat or changing my dressing. But I always made sure I timed my other needs for when you were not on duty. I never told you… but one time, I was in pain and needed to relieve myself…” His cheeks tinted in a soft pink and he hesitated for a moment. “It was during your shift and I tried to sneak outside, because I was so scared I’d wet myself and you would notice and…” Dalayer took a deep breath. “Iorveth saw how I struggled. And he helped me, wordless. I was embarrassed to the bone, but at least it wasn´t you.”  
“You know, I´d not mind if you washed my crotch, but Iorveth would not even want you to see him like this. We all know he’s a proud prick,” added Cadfael, and he winked at her. “We will take good care of him.”  
Hesitating, Yrdenne stood up. Her eyes laid on Iorveth, and it broke her heart to see him so sick. She would to anything to help him, to ease his suffering and bring him back to life. It took some effort to turn away from him.  
“All right. I will go and see if I can speak to Naisula, and I will go through my notes from Aglaïs. Iorveth is not the only one who needs medication.”


	26. Dwynwen's Secret

Yrdenne rushed out of the tent, she grabbed her knapsack on the way and swung it on her back. As soon as she was outside, she took a deep breath and buried her face in her hands. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks and she failed to hold back the sobbing any longer. How should she ever get through this?   
The sky was mockingly blue, speckled with tiny white clouds here and there. A fresh breeze flowed through the air and birds were chirping. And still, Yrdenne felt like she was enveloped by choking black smoke and with every breath it became thicker. It took her a moment to pull herself together, but when she heard Dalayer and Cadfael rummaging and talking in the tent behind her, she wiped the tears away and hurried towards the fence of the restricted area. She needed Naisula.

As if the dryad had known about her struggle, she was waiting a stone throw away from where Yrdenne and the guys crossed the fence. She looked around, searching for her friends, and every now and then she sent the sentinel, who was watching her suspiciously, angry glares. When she spotted Yrdenne, her face lit up and she waved vehemently. Yrdenne ran to meet her.  
“Yrdenne, by the gods! Are you all right? Did you find him?” Worried, Naisula scanned Yrdenne’s face. “Oh my dear… did you cry?”   
Helpless, with hanging shoulders she watched how Yrdenne took her knapsack off and slumped down on the ground. Naisula followed her example.  
“He is sick, Naisula. And he’s already unconscious. According to Cjardeth that’s the final…” Yrdenne’s voice cracked. She cleared her throat. “Cadfael and Dalayer are currently taking care of him. I don´t know how to handle this.”  
Naisula’s eyebrow twitched, when Yrdenne mentioned Cadfael and Dalayer, but her expression softened quickly.  
“Remember what Aglaïs taught you. Even though you only spent so little time with her, I am sure she gave you the knowledge to get through this. To heal him.” Naisula’s voice was gentle, but firm. “Tell me what you need, and I will get it for you. And I will try to figure out what happened here…”  
Out of nothing, the sentinel who stood close by and did not take her eyes of them, cleared her throat.  
“I am not sure who you are, or what a dryad and a human want in this exclave of Dol Blathanna. But you seem to belong here, so I am happy to tell you what happened here.”   
With raised eyebrows, Naisula and Yrdenne turned to her.   
“Thank… you,” Yrdenne stuttered surprised. The sentinel had short black hair and tan skin, and she leaned on her halberd as it if was a hiking pole.  
“They came a few days after Iorveth and his warriors had left the camp, almost as if they had waited for him to leave. Without a warning, they blew up the gate and stormed the camp. No one saw them coming, and only later we found out that the sentinels in the woods were dead already. The Purple Lantern brought two powerful mages, we stood no chance.” With knitted brows, the female looked around, she pointed at the path of destruction through the camp.   
“Quickly, it became clear that they headed towards the Sacred Hall. But we realized it too late. They split up, and one group went to get the Aen Saevherne. They killed those who tried to fight them, and stole the others away. As soon as they had what they wanted, the battle was over. I found it almost scary how fast they vanished into the woods. Rina took the command, but she is overcharged with the organization of the camp.” A sigh escaped her mouth. “When the illness broke out, she let us built a barrier and left the sick for the wolves.”  
Wide eyed, Yrdenne stared at the black haired elf.  
“Cadfael suspected something like that… they came for the Aen Saevherne. But why?”  
The sentinel shook her head.  
“We don´t know. Idris got in an argument with Rina, so he left to find Iorveth. We were so relieved when they returned…” Her throat bobbed and she blinked a few times too much. “Rumours say he got sick, too. Your words seem to confirm this.”  
This sentinel looked utterly desperate and her admiration for Iorveth was almost tangible.   
“Is there hope?” she asked and met Yrdenne’s gaze.  
“There is always hope,” Naisula said and her lips curled into a soft smile. “Together, Yrdenne and I are probably the best healers you can find in the Northern Realms, and we just arrived. If you tell us where we find herbs and medical supplies, we will be able to make medicine. My name is Naisula, by the way.”  
“Nice to meet you, Naisula and Yrdenne. I am Efa. The medical stash is under Rina’s supervision. A small portion went to the medics in the restricted area. That`s all. During Iorveth’s trimester in the camp, the Aen Saevherne provided ointments and remedies, so we weren’t well equipped in the first place.”   
Yrdenne’s face lit up. She remembered that Dwynwen, too, was some sort of healer. Maybe wherever she stored the ointment she had used on Yrdenne’s burn, there was more to find.  
“On which side of this… barrier is the Sacred Hall?” Yrdenne asked right away. “Do I have access to Dwynwen’s house?”  
Puzzled, Efa looked at Yrdenne.   
“It is within the restricted area. But the Purple Lantern destroyed at lot. I doubt you will find anything of use there.”  
“Thank you! That´s what I needed to know!” Yrdenne jumped up and took her knapsack. “Naisula, please bring my sleeping bag to the barrier, seems like we are going to stay a while. Try to figure out what exactly Rina has stashed. Ask for dimeritium! And ask if it´s possible for you to go into the woods to collect herbs.”  
Naisula raised her eyebrows at Yrdenne’s sudden excitement, but nodded vehemently.  
“They can´t chain me, can they? I will get you what you need.”

Yrdenne ran straight to the quarry. When she passed Iorveth’s tent, she only risked a glance and was surprised to see Dalayer with arms crossed in front of his chest, watching a little bonfire with a satisfied smirk. Obviously, he took off of his armor and only wore tight black trousers and a blue shirt with rolled up sleeves, and, taking closer look, he was burning Iorveth’s bedsheets. He looked up when he saw Yrdenne, but she did not slow down.  
With wide steps, she crossed the parade ground and hurried past the tree Cadfael had chained her to. A shiver ran down her spine and she almost felt the cold iron on her skin again. It took some effort, to shake the memory off, and Yrdenne was relieved when she reached the door of Dwynwen’s house.  
Like Efa had told her, the city carved in stone was destroyed. Most of the doors were shattered, including the huge gate that shielded the actual Sacred Hall from the world. And crumbles and debris were all what remained from the giant griffin statues that flanked the gate.   
The door to Dwynwen’s house was mainly intact, but ripped off his hinges. Carefully, Yrdenne set a foot into the hallway, half scared, half curious about what she might find in there. While the first metres of the ground were covered in dust, splinters, and gravel, the destruction was not as horrible as Yrdenne expected. Before she raided the kitchen, Yrdenne caught a glimpse into the living room, and while the window was shattered and a chair was broken, the settee and other furniture were in one piece. Pillows lay on the ground and a picture fell off the wall. Nothing that couldn´t be fixed within a few hours. The kitchen looked similar.   
Some of the jars had been wiped off the shelves and the ground was covered in jam and sticky shards. The table had a few notches, like someone hat hit it with a weapon, and the flowers of the bouquet were brown and dry. At first Yrdenne was worried about Dwynwen, but there were no traces of blood. Chances were high that the old elf was still alive.   
Yrdenne walked to the shelves to see if Dwynwen had any herbs, but those Yrdenne found were seasoning. A little unnerved, she left the kitchen and decided to continue her search in the higher levels of the house.  
To her surprise, the door that led deeper into the mountain was untouched. It did not even have a dent, no traces of damage or trial to break it. Frowning, Yrdenne laid her hand on the wood or the door and pushed gently, wondering if it was locked. But it swung open as if it had waited for her to come back. A dim twilight lit the spiralling corridor, and Yrdenne looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was around, before she entered it. Somehow, it felt forbidden to go further.  
She did it anyway.

Yrdenne tried every door in the spiralling hallway, but two were locked and the key nowhere to be found, behind one she found a spacious bedroom – untouched by the Purple Lantern – and behind the other was the hallway leading to the guestrooms and the crystal baths. Entirely disheartened, she returned to the kitchen, dropped her knapsack on the table and slumped down on one of the chairs.   
It dawned to her, that she would have to search the whole Sacred Hall now, and she did not know where to start. Or what she was looking for. With a sigh, she pulled her notebook out of her bag and browsed through the pages. Maybe she found something in the notes she took with Aglaïs that helped her to set priorities.  
With the book in her hands, she got up and walked over to the shelves and read the labels on Dwynwen’s jars. Aglaïs suggested pumpkin-seed oil as a carrier for herbal extracts and Yrdenne spotted a few sealed glass bottles with a very dark greenish liquid on the highest shelf. For a moment Yrdenne mused if she should get a chair to reach them, but decided she was tall enough. On her toe-tips, her arm outstretched, she angled for one of the bottles, could grasp one with the tips of her fingers, pulled it to the edge of the shelf. Just when she wanted to fully close her hand around the bottle, it tilted, slipped through her fingers and fell down. Yrdenne watched with wide eyes how the bottle shattered on the stone ground.   
“Which gods did I insult to deserve this?” Yrdenne sighed. Her shoulders dropped and she stared at the dark green liquid that spread on the floor, and the glistening shards. Helpless she looked around, but she was alone, and did not know how to continue anyway. Her mind was racing and her heart pounding, whenever her thoughts circled back to Iorveth. She did not know where to search for Dwynwen’s medicine stash, nor did she know where else, of even if, there was anything useful in the Sacred Hall. Now she could as well clean the entire kitchen. 

Yrdenne used a wooden bowl to collect the larger glass pieces, and a hand broom she found in a cupboard with other cleaning supplies to sweep up the splinters. She remembered a well outside the house and to her relief, she found a wooden bucket next to it.   
The jam on the floor was already sticky and the oil did not make the cleaning easier, but with the third bucket of clean water, the kitchen floor looked almost like new. Yrdenne started to feel more calm and content, and she whirled through the kitchen with her mop, humming a song that came to her head. Only when she was almost finished, she accidentally kicked the bucket so it tipped and flooded the floor with soapy water and jam residues.  
Frustrated, Yrdenne glared at the new mess she caused, well knowing that she was already wasting time. But then, she noticed something. The water slowly ran to the corner of the room and started to form a puddle. The floor must be slightly prone. Unnerved, Yrdenne grabbed a towel to soak up the water, only to discover that the puddle was already shrinking, as if the wall was soaking it up.   
Yrdenne frowned and knelt down to have a closer look.  
There was a slit, barely visible, and Yrdenne only saw it because a red droplet of floating jam disappeared underneath the wall. Into the wall.   
Yrdenne’s heart skipped a beat. This wasn´t a wall. This was a door!  
The dropped the towel right where she was, jumped up and begun to frisk the wall for a secret lever, a door knob, anything that would open this hidden gateway. Her hands were shaking, because the wall appeared to be as smooth as the others. Just plain grey stone.  
“In all gods’ names, open! I know there is a doorway!” she growled and knocked at the supposed door when she failed to open it.  
And something changed.   
The stone became translucent, and the structure of wood appeared in front of her. Yrdenne was sure, this passage was protected by a similar Aen Saevherne spell as the camp. She continued to pat the wall until she felt something in her hand that indeed was a door knob. One twist, one klick, and the wall – the door – swung open.

Yrdenne squealed and almost stumbled, when she hurried to get through the doorway. Behind the kitchen wall was a short, narrow corridor that widened into a cavern like room with a high ceiling. The ceiling was made of the same blue-ish crystals like that baths and begun to emit light with increasing intensity, as soon as Yrdenne entered the room.   
In the centre was a huge wooden table, covered in a variety of glass flasks and spiralling tubes and jar filled with mysterious powders and liquids, while the walls were covered with shelves, stuffed with books and a variety of containers, and cabinets, and racks with strange looking instruments. In one corner was a little well that was constantly filled with bubbling water from a hole in the wall right above. This was the perfect dream of an alchemist’s kitchen!  
Marvelling, Yrdenne twirled around and gazed at all the jars and urns and bottles. This! This was what she needed! Oh how she wished Aryell could see this. Adrenaline rushed through Yrdenne’s veins when she begun to inspect the shelves. She was well aware that this was the laboratory of a mage, and she could not use many of the substances stored here. But, quickly, she found a shelf with dried plants and herbal extracts.  
She found an impressive stash of verbena, willow bark, white myrtle, sage, crow’s eye, beggartick blossoms, and, finally, pollen of hop umbels. In Oxenfurt, no one ever taught her, but hop umbels was the first thing Aglaïs suggested. The pollen created a strong aura against magic and would help to expel the illness. At least, Yrdenne hoped so.   
Fuelled by the promise her discovery held, Yrdenne gathered glassware and set everything up to distil a potent herbal extract. Furtunately, Dwynwen had also stashed enough coal to heat the still. It would take some time, but it was worth it. Carefully, Yrdenne ground the herbs and plants and added them into the still with one of her Brokilon Jaspers. As the heat begun to releas the active agents from the plants and the gemstone, and the swirling steam begun to rise and weaved through the glass tubes, Yrdenne turned away from the still and brought a gallon water to boil, to make an herbal infusion as a first remedy. 

About an hour later, Yrdenne carried two large glass flasks in woven baskets filled with the herbal infusion across the parade ground. In her knapsack was another bottle with a special mixture for Iorveth. The still was still in progress, but maybe at night she might have the first extract ready to use.   
Before she headed to Iorveth, Yrdenne brought the remedy to the sickbay. In front of the tent, she found Deryn sitting on a bench, peeling potatoes.   
“Hello Deryn,” Yrdenne said and carefully put the two flasks on the ground, “I made some medicine for the sick. Could you please make sure everyone gets a mug full of this, three times a day? I will make more, later.”  
Deryn, who stared at the potato in her hand, looked up and met Yrdenne’s gaze with reddened eyes.  
“My friend died of the illness, today,” was all she replied.   
Yrdenne felt how her throat tightened until it hurts.  
“I am sorry to hear that.”  
Deryn just shook her head and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, leaving a strain of dirt from the potato peels.   
“She was the first who fell ill. We sort of expected it. Thank you for helping.”  
“How many?” Yrdenne asked with a hoarse voice. She had seen Iorveth. She was aware of his state. She had known there were others. But somehow, she wasn’t aware of the severity of the situation, until know. Maybe she did not want to be aware. Maybe, to her, it was Iorveth who counted.  
Deryn shrugged her shoulders.   
“I didn´t count them. Some are here in the sickbay, but Rina advised those who fell sick to stay in their tent and try to recover. A few of us distribute water and food, and sometimes some chamomile tea, or rosemary.”  
“Is… Idris among them?” Yrdenne realized that she did not see him yet.  
“He disappeared shortly after he returned with Iorveth. Haven´t seen him since.”  
Yrdenne frowned. In her head, he was laying somewhere in a tent all alone, maybe dying, and no one had found him yet.  
“I will look for him, later. Please make sure everyone gets something of the medicine.” Yrdenne was about to turn around to hurry to Iorveth, but then she remembered. “And if you have any Brokilon Jasper, or anything made of dimeritium, wear it close to your body. It will protect you. Gather all the dimeritium you find and distribute it among your comrades.”  
Deryn put the potato and the knife down and nodded, a flicker of hope flashed through her eyes.   
“Thank you. We will.”

Back at Iorveth’s tent, Yrdenne found a smoking pile of ashes next to the entrance. The remains of Iorveth’s bedsheets, and whatever else Dalayer and Cadfael found to be too contaminated or filthy to clean. Yrdenne took a deep breath before she entered the tent, her heart was in her mouth and her knees begun to feel weak. She was scared of whatever she would find.  
This time, the air inside the tent was surprisingly fresh. The stench of death and sickness was gone and the smell of incense lingered in the air. She heard Dalayer and Cadfael talking with hushed voices and was amazed to find them sitting at Iorveth’s bed, watching over him.   
Iorveth’s chamber was flooded with sunlight, thanks to Dalayer’s improvised windows. A light breeze flowed through the room and the clean, white bedsheets made the room even brighter. Iorveth lay on the right side of his too big bed, Yrdenne noticed that they had even washed his hair, that framed his now peaceful face. He was still pale, but his cheeks were rosier and his chest was heaving visibly. His breath was steady, almost as if he was just sleeping. Yrdenne swallowed.  
“You did a wonderful job. Thank you,” she said with a low voice and softly smiled at Dalayer and Cadfael. The men looked up when they heard her and returned the smile. They looked utterly exhausted, but it made Yrdenne chuckle to see how alike they were.   
Both had their long hair tied back in a messy ponytail, strands of hair falling into their faces. They wore similar tight trousers and shirts with rolled up sleeves, Dalayer in blue and Cadfael in dark green, the lacing on her chest open.  
“Hej Yrdie, good to see you again. Did you meet Naisula, could you figure anything out?” Dalayer asked right away.   
“Did you visit the sickbay? They brought us hot water and a bath tub, and we promised to help later. How bad is it?” Cadfael added with knitted brows.   
“I talked to Naisula, she will get us whatever we need. And I went to the sickbay to bring them some medication…”  
“You must be truly a gifted healer, when you were able to make medication from the scraps of resources Rina has left," Cadfael scoffed.  
"I used other resources, quite potent ones as it seems," Yrdenne explained, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.  
"And where did you find those? Hanging from the tree?"   
“In Dwynwen’s secret lab,” replied Yrdenne and put her knapsack down. She sat down on the edge of Iorveth’s bed and pulled a water skin filled the herbal infusion, an earthen jar with a faded label, and a little brown bottle out of the bag and put them on his bedside table.  
“Dwynwen has a lab?” - “Who is Dwynwen?” Both Dalayer and Cadfael were slightly puzzled.  
Yrdenne ignored their questions.  
“She has a still, but it takes time to make herbal extract, so for now we have to go with this infusion. But by change I stumbled across this,” Yrdenne pointed at the jar. “This is hop umbels honey. I added some to the medicine for the elves, but this is all we have so I saved the rest for Iorveth.” Guilt crept up in her chest, now that she spoke it out loud. This was not how a true healer should behave, favouring one patient over others. But one look into his face and the deeply rooted love for Iorveth washed the guilt away.   
“Hop umbels is protective against magic, and if dimeritium helps if it´s worn on the outside, this might help to drive out the illness from the inside.”  
Dalayer reached for the small brown bottle. “And this?”  
Yrdenne sighed. Suddenly, the weight of Cjardeth’s jasper on her chest became heavier.  
“That is… a personal experiment.”


	27. Bidding Farewell

Dalayer looked at the little brown bottle. Yrdenne’s experiment. The first droplets of her herbal extract, mixed with other ingredients she discovered in Dwynwen’s laboratory. Wordless, Cadfael snatched the bottle out of Dalayer’s hand and held it against the light to examine it.  
“I am not sure if I like your experiment. What if it´s harmful?” he stated with a snarl in his voice. His gaze switched to Iorveth, who was still unconscious.   
“She knows what she’s doing,” Dalayer snarled back and got up. And with a low voice he added: “As if she was able to do anything that harmed him. I think my work is done here for now.” With that, he left the tent.

Cadfael followed Dalayer with his eyes before he turned back to Yrdenne.  
“Your man here is a very interesting individual. I expected he would try to drown Iorveth in the bathtub, but he didn´t.”  
Yrdenne’s throat bobbed.  
“Yes, he’s one of a kind.”  
Cadfael laughed out loud and shock his head.  
“I don´t understand the games you play, dh’oine. But maybe I just lean back and wait what happens next. Maybe you were right and I just like to watch the world burn.” That being said, Cadfael stood up and handed the brown bottle back to Yrdenne. “It’s your turn with him, I guess. I did what I could.” With a stern expression, he looked at Iorveth one last time before he followed Dalayer outside. When he reached the door, he turned around once more.  
“We had the impression that Iorveth is more relaxed when you talk to him. I think he hears what we say. He knows that he’s not alone anymore.”  
Yrdenne looked at the bottle on her hand and then at Iorveth.  
“Thank you. I hope he does.”

When Cadfael was gone, Yrdenne put the medication back on the nightstand, reached for her knapsack and dug through her belongings until she found the key element of her treatment for Iorveth: The Brokilon jasper Aglaïs had given her.   
“Hej, Iorveth,” she said with a hoarse voice. She found it oddly difficult to talk to him. “It´s me, Yrdenne. I am… with you, now. I will take care of you. You will survive this… do you hear me? You will survive…”  
She scanned his face for any reaction of recognition, a sign that he sensed her presence, but there was nothing. Gently, she laid her hand on his chest, and a smile flitted across her face when she saw the pendant she had given him so many years ago lying next to the moth tattoo. It was a jasper, too, not from Brokilon, but from home.  
“The shield in front of your chest, the sword in your hand and the snake below your feet,” Yrdenne mumbled. Maybe this gemstone was the reason why he was still alive. Maybe it indeed did protect him.   
“I have another jasper for you, Aglaïs gave it to me. It will help you to fight the illness,” Yrdenne explained while she tied the necklace around his neck. “Cjardeth figured out that Brokilon jasper blocks the dark magic in the core of the illness. I really wish he were here…” Yrdenne’s throat bobbed.   
Softly she brushed a strand of hair out of Iorveth’s face and tucked it behind his ear. Iorveth’s brow twitched when she touched him.   
“Oh, sorry… the ear thing…”, she mumbled. Good, that no one was there to see how she blushed. She cleared her throat and reached for the water-skin with the herbal infusion.  
“I made some medicine in Dwynwen’s laboratory. It will not taste good, but it might help you. I will lift your head so you can drink it… but you have to swallow, Iorveth. If you don´t, this might drown you…” While she spoke and explained what she was about to do, Yrdenne got up, moved the nightstand away and sat down on the pillow, next to Iorveth’s head.   
Her hands were slightly trembling, and Yrdenne held her breath while she instilled a few sips of the infusion. To her relief, Iorveth swallowed the liquid and did not choke on it.  
“See, this isn´t too bad,” Yrdenne whispered and decided to stay where she was, so she could administer tiny sips every now and then. Very carefully, she placed Iorveth’s head on her lap and started to stroke his brow.  
“Oh Iorveth, what have you gotten yourself into? I truly did not expect to meet you again so soon, especially not in a condition like this. I imagined I would run towards you and throw myself into your arms, and you would hold me tight and twirl me around. I thought we would laugh, and kiss…”  
Softly, she ran her finger through his hair.  
“Can´t you just open your eyes and tell me you are feeling better?”   
It was hard to brush off the disappointment when he didn’t.

Except of a brief break to get the herbal distillate from Dwynwen’s laboratory and to order Cadfael to distribute it among his sick comrades, Yrdenne spent the entire afternoon with Iorveth. She gave him more of the herbal infusion, applied a salve on his chapped lips and tried her best to make him as comfortable as she could.   
When the sun begun to set and dyed the sky in a warm orange, she finally reached for the little brown bottle.  
“You know, Aglaïs believes I inherited some magic, when Cjardeth healed my arm,” she told Iorveth, “She tried to teach me how to transfer it into potions… but I failed gloriously. Maybe my despair to heal you is enough to make it work.”  
She climbed onto the bed and sat down cross-legged on the empty left side, facing Iorveth. With the left hand she held the bottle, and her right reached for Iorveth’s hand and intertwined her fingers with his.   
“All I need to do is breathing…” she murmured and closed her eyes.   
Inhale, holding breath, exhale.   
Yrdenne tried to focus on the cold glass in her hand and the jasper on her chest, and Iorveth’s surprisingly warm skin against hers. But whenever Iorveth slightly moved his head, or sighed, or simply breathed louder, she was ripped out of her focus.   
After a few attempts, Yrdenne surrendered, but the bottle away and curled up on the empty side of the bed with a frustrated sigh.   
“Why can´t I make this work, when it´s the only thing in the world I want? I will never forgive myself when I can´t wake you up…”  
Her incapability to use the power Aglaïs saw in her was choking. Yrdenne begun to feel dizzy and she sensed every single heartbeat through her whole body, as if it was working too hard and her blood was too thick. She could not take her eyes off Iorveth’s sleeping face.  
“There are so many things I wanted to tell you…” She propped herself up on her elbow and begun to gently run her fingers from his forehead over his cheek to his jaw, and up again.  
“Now, I know that it was a mistake that we didn`t talk about the past years. I am scared that you never hear me say that I don´t blame you for having a child with Seregthiel. I am scared that I never get to explain to you that I won´t marry Dalayer, and that I did not even know about his stupid letter… I am scared we don`t get the chance to fix this.”  
She did not know what she expected to happen, or how soon the Brokilon jasper and the herbal infusion would work. Or if they had any effect at all. But seeing no change yet was more painful than Yrdenne could bear. Once more, she squeezed his hand and nudged his shoulder.  
“If this is the end, I want you to know that I love you. I always did. And I want you to know that I waited for you, all those years, and that I never meant to settle down with Dalayer. He warmed my bed and soothed my loneliness, I have no regrets. But my heart was always yours.” With her index finger, she drew a heart on his chest, right over the moth, circling the two gem stones. Thinking through everything that happened and reflecting on her decisions, and those Iorveth had made stirred up the hurt and disappointment he caused her.  
“By the gods, I took contraceptive herbs through all the time because ending up pregnant and having his child was my worst nightmare. I poisoned myself, so I would not be forced to spend my life as his wife. I wanted to be free to leave Vizima once you came to find me, but, instead, I became infertile. I beg you to wake up and tell my it was worth it!”   
With tears in her eyes, she gazed at Iorveth’s face. But Iorveth remained silent.

“This is probably the worst thing I ever heard someone say about me.”  
Startled, Yrdenne sat up and realized, horror-stricken, that Dalayer stood at the door. The bitterness in his voice was excruciating.  
“I was not aware that you thought so low of me,” he said and shock his head.  
“Dalayer, you know that I don´t,” Yrdenne rasped and crawled off the bed to go to him.   
Deprecating, he raised his hands and shock his head.  
“Just stay where you are. I know when I am not welcome. I will leave you two lovebirds alone…”  
But before Dalayer could turn around and storm off, Yrdenne was by his side and grabbed his wrist.  
“No, I will not let you go like that!”   
Determined, she locked her eyes with his. Dalayer hesitated, so Yrdenne took his hand in both of hers.  
“If you leave now, we will both spend the night suffering. I know, I hurt you beyond measures, but there is a chance one of us does not wake up tomorrow,” she glanced at Iorveth, and Dalayer followed her look, “And I could not stand if we parted like this.”  
With a throaty growl, Dalayer ripped his hand free and crossed his arms in front of his chest.  
“You mean, you want me to listen to your apology so you don´t feel miserable if I die?”   
Yrdenne raised her hand to touch his cheek, but he turned his head away. Her shoulders dropped when she drew her hand back. Dalayer was right, she felt miserable, but it was the result of her very own behaviour. She had to deal with this on her own, but he shouldn’t.  
“No, I want you to throw every insult at me that comes to your mind, and tell me how you feel. I don´t want you to be alone with this, and I assume I am the best option for company you have… unless you prefer Cadfael.”  
A brief smile flitted across Dalayer’s face.  
“I will not insult you for not returning the feelings I have for you. Believe it or not, but I knew what I signed up for when I took you in my bed. It was my own naivety to believe I could win you over.” Again he looked at Iorveth. “Now, I know I can’t compete with him.”  
With a huff, he turned away.  
“I cannot bear to be around him. I just came to tell you Cadfael is on his way to get you some food.”  
“Then Cadfael can very well watch over Iorveth for a while. Let me take you to a place where we can talk in private.”

Yrdenne was not entirely sure if it was a good idea to leave Cadfael alone with Iorveth, and to take Dalayer to Dwynwen’s house. Or if she was actually allowed to do so. But Dalayer deserved an explanation and an escape from being surrounded by elves all day. He did not complain when she took his hand and led him away from the camp, towards the stone quarry.   
The scent of herbs and alchemy still lingered in Dwynwen’s kitchen when they arrived.  
“Take a seat and make yourself at home,” she said while she lit a set of thick candles she found earlier that day and kindled the fire in the stove.  
Dalayer leant against the doorway with his head up high and his arms crossed in front of the chest, and looked around.  
“This is incredibly cosy,” he stated, “I can´t remember the last time I have been inside a house like this. You know, a home. For years, I lived in castles, tents, monasteries, military quarters… I miss living in a home.”  
Yrdenne knew what he meant. A memory popped up in her mind, the picture of Dalayer and her cutting vegetables in her kitchen in Novigrad. A peaceful evening, before everything went down the drain.  
“Shall I make us a cup of tea?”, she asked and reached for a jar of dried balm in the shelf next to her. The harsh lines on Dalayer’s face softened and, slowly, the anger and hurt begun to fade. The sadness, however, remained.  
“Our life could be like this, or could have been... In the manor of my family. I feel stupid for truly believing you would want that.”  
“Dalayer…” Yrdenne took a deep breath. Her chest was aching and she could only imagine how miserable he felt. She struggled to find the right words. “I never wanted that. I used to deeply love you, but even then, I did not want this kind of life with you.”  
A shadow fell on his face. “Yes, a nightmare. I remember your words.”  
He shook his head and dropped his shoulders. Yrdenne did not know what to reply.  
“I always knew you were a wild child. Rebellious and bold, a wildcat that only needed to be tamed,” a brief laughter escaped Dalayer’s lips, “I thought I could tame you, domesticate you, and turn you into a housewife. My very own trophy. How wrong I was…” While he spoke, Dalayer made a step towards her, and another, his eyes locked with hers. Yrdenne put the jar she held down and closed the gap between them, until only an ell of thin air separated their bodies.  
“Back then, I wanted to be tamed, and protected from the world. Even though being with you felt like being caged, I endured. Because with you, I knew I was safe,” she admitted. “Maybe a part of me wanted to be that trophy.”   
For a moment, Dalayer closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, Yrdenne’s words stuck right into his soul. When he met her gaze again, his eyes were so full of pain that Yrdenne could not help it. With a pounding heart, she wrapped her arms around Dalayer’s waist and leant her head against his chest. No words could fix this.  
At first he did not move and looked down at her with knitted brows, but then he wrapped his arms around her. After a moment of hesitation, he fully leaned into the embrace and drew Yrdenne closer.  
“All those nights in Vizima, your touch never felt so… caring like it does now,” he murmured against her hair. “You kissed me and we slept together and not even once we were as close as now. This is ridiculous.” Through the fabric of their clothes, Yrdenne sensed the warmth of his body and she cursed herself for enjoying the intimacy. A pleasant shiver ran down her spine.  
“Because, in Vizima, I was scared to be close to you. I was scared to be hurt again; I did not dare to trust you.”   
But now, she felt it. Dalayer’s trust, his love for her. Being honest to herself, this was the first time through all those years she actually felt what Dalayer had known all the time. They were her family, he and Malik. 

“I am sorry that you had to… take such drastic measures. And I regret that I never had the guts to talk to you about… everything.” Dalayer swallowed and his voice rasped. “You were right, though, because every time you’d crawl into my bed, I prayed you would get pregnant so you were finally mine.” The disdain in his voice, condemnation for his own intentions, was hard to ignore.  
“Don´t be too hard to yourself, Dalayer. Both of us needed time to heal… We still do. You have grown, since Novigrad. Far more that I could see. I always thought all you wanted was to claim me as yours… But I was wrong. Your actions speak more than words. You wouldn´t be here if you did not want me to be happy. I can´t thank you enough for what you did for Iorveth, today.”  
Dalayer’s chest quivered when he laughed. It was laughter deprived of joy and full of bitterness.  
“Just yesterday, I wanted exactly that: Own you. I try my best to be the friend you need, I really do. But when you arrived in our camp accompanied by this elf, all I wanted was to lure you into my tent and seduce you. I wanted to bed you for the sole purpose of reclaiming you as mine. How can you say I’ve grown?” Disgusted, he turned his head away and clenched his jaws.  
Yrdenne sighed and raised her hand to caress his cheek, gently she forced him to meet her gaze.  
“We all have weaknesses, Dalayer. I don´t blame you, for anything. But we need to find a closure for whatever is between us, or it will corrupt our lives and break our souls. I don´t want to hurt you anymore.”  
Dalayer closed his eyes and leaned his face into her palm.  
“Aren´t we already broken? Does it really matter now?” he asked.  
Yrdenne drew her hand back.  
“I cannot afford to be broken. I need to be whole, I need no function…” – “You need to take care of Iorveth,” Dalayer finished the sentence for her.   
“Even though he does not deserve it. Is it true? That he has a woman in Dol Blathanna, a child even?”

The mention of Iorveth’s child was choking, Yrdenne felt how her throat tightened. She could only nod.  
“This might sound like mockery, but I am sorry that he wasn´t as careful as you were. I despise him for letting you down like that. Honestly, it´s hard to believe he was that stupid. Do you think he will return to Dol Blathanna?” The sorrow in Dalayer’s voice was real, and his sympathy honest.  
“I don´t know. He is not aware that I know about it. But I will not stand between Iorveth and his family. A child needs their father, even if that means I have to give him up. When we parted in Brokilon, Iorveth actually suggested that I… chose someone else. I guess, because he knew we can´t be together.”   
It was too much, Yrdenne failed to hold her tears back any longer. She cried in silence, and she hated herself for crying about Iorveth in front of Dalayer.

To her surprise, Dalayer pulled his shirt up to wipe her tears away and begun to stroke her back.  
“Seems like are we both terrible in choosing lovers,” he murmured and kissed her brow. “If he survives the illness, I might drag him over the coals for that.”   
Through a veil of tears, Yrdenne laughed about the picture of Dalayer yelling at Iorveth for breaking her heart. The situation they were caught in was beyond ridiculous.  
“I don´t deserve you,” she sobbed, “but here I am, hurting you again.”  
But Dalayer just shrugged and held her tight.  
“Maybe I like to be hurt. Maybe we deserve each other,” he paused, slightly leaned back and put two fingers under her chin, gently forcing her to look up. “Even if we don´t have a future together, I will not stop caring about you.”

Yrdenne got lost in his storm grey eyes. Guilt crept up in her chest, a wave of nausea rushed through her stomach, only to be driven away by her fluttering heart. She raised herself on her toe tips and planted a kiss on his mouth, brief and soft.  
“Do you think this is a good idea?”, Dalayer murmured against her lips and kissed her back.  
“When was kissing you ever a good idea, in the first place?”, Yrdenne asked and wrapped her arms around his neck. When she pressed her body against his, Dalayer pulled back and gently pushed her away.  
“Yrdenne… what are you doing? Didn´t you just say we need a closure?” He fought against himself, raging desire in his eyes. Yrdenne knew too well how this would end if they didn´t stop.  
“I am sorry,” she breathed and made a step backwards, but Dalayer grabbed her hips and pulled her close. Yrdenne did not fight it, her excuse was a blatant lie.  
“Never before, you kissed me like that,” he mumbled and breathed a kiss on her lips. “Why can´t you just let me go?”   
Not that he wanted her to let him go. Before she could answer, he pressed his mouth on hers with a passion she didn´t expect. Yrdenne gasped for breath when he released her lips, her chest was heaving.  
“Dalayer, maybe we should go back… I don´t want to give you hope when there’s none.”  
To her utter surprise, Dalayer’s lips curled into a gentle smile.  
“Now, I understand that I can´t claim you. I lost you, years ago.” He kissed her again, and gently bit into her lower lip. “There is no hope, but we might deserve a farewell.”  
A shiver ran down Yrdenne’s spine when Dalayer slid his hands a few inches under her shirt and caressed her skin.  
“You will hate me tomorrow,” she mumbled and leaned against him. The reaction in his loins was hard to ignore.  
“I won´t,” he said, “But I leave the decision to you.”  
Yrdenne tried to read his face, she tried to find mischief or some traces of wrath, any warning sign. But all she found in his gaze was affection and desire. No expectation, no claim or demand.   
It was up to her.  
“There is a bedroom upstairs.”  
“Are you sure you want this?” Dalayer asked.  
“We deserve a farewell.” With that, she kissed him again.

They barely made it to the guestroom Yrdenne had occupied during her last stay in the camp. Half way up the spiralling hallway, Dalayer dragged her into his arms, pressed her against the wall and kissed her so ravenous that Yrdenne thought she lost her mind. Knowing there were no expectations anymore was liberating, for both of them. This was not about solace; she did not try to substitute something she missed. They both gave in to their lust and took what they needed. He picked her up, so she could wrap her legs around his hips, and carried her the rest of the way.   
Between the kisses, Yrdenne breathed directions, and she sighed relieved when he finally opened the door of her guestroom. Carefully, Dalayer sat her down on the bed and took her shirt off, and then his own, while Yrdenne opened his trousers and pulled them down.  
“Are you sure?” he asked again when Yrdenne took off her undergarments.  
Her eyes grazed over his body, the strong arms and the sculpted chest. She didn’t reply, but simply lay back and patted on the empty space next to her. Dalayer understood.  
Even though she had spent so many nights with him, everything was new and different.  
Dalayer was gentle and caring, as always, and his kisses were passionate. Only this time, he did not simply take her, but gave away a part of his soul. He knew very well how to touch her and kissed every inch of her skin, from her neck to her breasts and the apex of her tights. He took his time to explore her body, as if he saw her for the first time. The sensation of his calloused hands on her skin was utterly soothing and arousing at the same time. To Yrdenne, it took forever until he Dalayer decided to enter her, oh so slowly. The rhythm of their bodies aligned quickly, the resonance of lovers knowing each other too well.  
For the first time, Yrdenne didn´t feel like he was trying to own her. They had nothing to lose and nothing to win. So she savoured every kiss, every touch, every thrust. Whenever the heat between them became overwhelming, Dalayer paused his movements and covered Yrdenne in gentle kisses, he prolonged the inevitable end as far as he could. After an eternity and still too soon, Dalayer gave in to his release and dragged Yrdenne with him down that vortex.

Afterwards, they lay next to each other and stared at the ceiling, half covered by a blanket, fingers intertwined.   
“Yrdenne… I think I finally understand...” Dalayer mumbled out of a sudden. Curiously, Yrdenne turned around and looked at him.   
“What?”  
“This is the first time you don´t sneak away, afterwards. Usually, you take what you need and leave… but this time was about us. You wanted me, you wanted to be with me. I am glad I could finally experience the difference.” There was no reproach in his voice.   
“It could have been good between us,” Yrdenne mused, “If things had been different.”  
“No, I don´t think so,” Dalayer admitted, but he squeezed her hand, “You will always be more of an elf than human. I am no match for you.”  
Even though it was the truth, his words hurt.   
“I am a miserable elf.”  
“At least, your necklace glowed. That was very elvish,” Dalayer chuckled.  
Suddenly, Yrdenne’s heart skipped a beat and she was wide awake  
“What do you mean, it glowed?”  
Still chuckling, Dalayer tugged at her pendant.   
“I don´t remember when it started, but after a while I noticed a pulsing glow. But I found other things more interesting,” he ran his finger over her breast and a pleasant shiver rant down Yrdenne’s spine.

“As much as I’d like to stay… I think we should go back. We left Cadfael alone quite a while…” with a sigh, Yrdenne sat up. With a dreamy smile on her lips, she begun to un-braid her hair and combed through it with her fingers. Cadfael did not need to see at the first glance what they had done…  
“Will he be angry? Is there anything I should know?” Dalayer sat up and swung his legs off the bed.  
“For sure he will be angry that we did not ask him to join us,” Yrdenne chuckled, but when she saw Dalayer’s confusion, she explained. “He is Iorveth’s former lover. And he has a deeply rooted passion for drama.”  
Dalayer huffed. “And you failed to mention this before I joined your weird party?”  
Yrdenne nudged his shoulder.  
“I didn´t think that it was of particular interest, when I warned you to come here. And don´t tell me you wouldn’t have joined us anyway.” A grin spread on her face.  
“I would have joined you, regardless,” Dalayer nodded, and then he leaned in for a last kiss. Yrdenne’s heart fluttered for an instant, and a warm sensation spread in her chest. This wasn’t love, but something deeper.  
“And I am glad you are here, really. I can´t thank you enough. And…” Yrdenne hesitated and ran her hand through his hair, “I hope we get through this, together.”  
Even in the dim twilight it was hard to ignore the sadness in his smile. She was aware of the finality of their separation, and even though she got exactly what she wanted, it was hurt.

“I will support you as good as I can. But in return, you need to give me space to dissociate from you. You need to assure me that there is no way back.” Dalayer reached for her hand and took away from his face. It tore her heart into pieces when she saw how much effort it took him.  
Now that it was time, Yrdenne fought with herself. She could say what he needed to hear, but she would close this door forever. And it was much harder that she had ever anticipated.  
“There is no way back. Like you said, we are no match. Even though Iorveth has a child and a family, even if he dies from this illness, I chose him. There is no future for you and me. At least, not as lovers.”  
“When we leave this house, it is over. No flirting, no drunken kisses and most of all, no thoughtless nights. No meaningless sex, not even meaningful sex. You have to promise me! Because, you know I can’t say no to you,” he pleaded. “I don´t have the strength for that, not yet.”  
Yrdenne swallowed, a poor attempt to fight the lump in her throat.   
“I promise. This won´t happened again. Ever.”


	28. A New Dawn

After their encounter, Yrdenne showed Dalayer where they could take a quick bath. While she sunk into the crystal clear, steaming water, she did not fail to notice how he caught glimpses of her naked body. At first she enjoyed his attention, but then she noticed the concern in his expression. When Yrdenne got out of the bath, Dalayer stayed in the water and watched her reaching for the towel she had found in guestroom.  
“You changed a lot, since you left Vizima,” he stated when she dried her skin. Yrdenne paused and met his gaze with knitted brows. Dalayer pointed at her tattoo.  
“Iorveth has a similar one.”  
Yrdenne looked at the arrows on her arm, a smile flitted across her face.  
“It´s coincidence. I got the tattoo in Brokilon, as a reminder of Novigrad… and to cover the scar. I don´t know where or when he got his.” The memory of her time in Brokilon raised a warm sensation in her chest. She couldn´t remember the last time she had been so happy.   
“But those marks on your thigh… they look like arrowheads, too. Did you get those on purpose?” Dalayer asked and frowned. Yrdenne froze, the warm feeling in her chest faded away as fast as it came.  
“No. That was done to me, against my will…” Quickly, she covered the marks with the towel and turned away, the memory alone was humiliating enough. She pondered if it was worth it to tell him the truth. Dalayer would go postal if he knew and her shame did not keep him from inquiring.  
“Who did that to you?”   
There was a dangerous growl in his voice and in no time, he was out of the bath and by her side. The fury in his eyes when he laid his hands on her shoulders was alarming.   
“Who, Yrdenne?”  
She inhaled deeply, knowing if she lied to him now and he found out the truth later, he would fight Cadfael, and the majority of elves would not be on his side. By all means, she would not be able to stop him then.  
“A few weeks ago, I was brought to this camp as a prisoner. Iorveth was not here, I did not even know he was their general. They chained me, and interrogated me… Every try to explain myself made it worse. The burn marks are the result…” The words stuck in her mouth as the memory of the pain flashed through her mind.  
“Who, Yrdenne?” Dalayer’s voice became softer, gentle even.   
“Promise me you won’t storm off butt naked to slaughter him! The score is already settled.”  
Dalayer’s expression turned from stern to puzzled, and then he laughed.  
“If one of Iorveth’s men did this, I am sure he made him regret the day he signed up for the army. But since Iorveth not in the condition to control his pack of wolves, I would like to know whom to have an eye on.” Gently, he brushed a strand of hair from per face.   
“It was Cadfael.” Yrdenne pulled the towel tight around her body and looked away. Branded like a mare… humiliated for the sole purpose of Cadfael’s hurt ego. Waving nausea rose in her stomach. And it was Dalayer who caught her fall. He embraced her, tightly.  
“And you love Iorveth so much, that you team up with this bastard to save him. I don’t think I can even imagine what hell this must be for you.” Again, he did not even try to hide the bitterness in his voice. Never before Yrdenne had seen Dalayer so empathetic and centred.  
With wide eyes, she met his gaze.   
“You don´t want to go after him?”  
Dalayer shook his head. “You asked me not to. I guess there is no need to mark my territory like that anymore.” He let go of her and picked his undergarments from a nearby chair to get dressed.

They walked back to the camp in silence. Yrdenne did not dare to reach for Dalayer’s hand. Their encounter was healing and painful at the same time, and both of them had thoughts to process. 

The meeting room of Iorveth’s tent was lit by oil lamps, and two plates with food stood on the table next to a carafe of water and a bottle of wine. Flickering candlelight shone through the doorway from Iorveth’s chamber and a murmuring voice broke through the silence. Yrdenne’s heart skipped a beat. Was Cadfael chatting with Iorveth? It took a moment to realize that he was only speaking to Iorveth, without getting any response.  
Curious, Yrdenne snuck through the room, followed by Dalayer.   
They could not be more surprised when they gazed into the chamber and found Cadfael sitting at the bed with a book on his knees. He read to Iorveth. As silent as possible, they watched the scenery, but Cadfael’s elven ears heard Yrdenne and Dalayer immediately. He paused and looked up.  
“You have nerves to leave me alone for so long!” Cadfael snapped and shut the book. He sent Iorveth another glance before he put it aside and got up to greet them.  
“Where have you been, anyway? Deryn was looking for you.”

Before Yrdenne could reply, Dalayer stormed past her, grabbed the collar of Cadfael’s shirt and rammed his fist in the elf’s face. A nasty crunch from ground bones echoed through the tent.  
Cadfael stumbled a few steps backwards and stared at Dalayer with eyes torn wide open. He was too shocked and too surprised, or maybe too controlled to react at all. Yrdenne jumped to Dalayer side and clung to his arm, but he made no attempt to hit again. Within a heartbeat, Dalayer was calm like a lamb again.  
“Don´t take it personal,” he said while he rubbed the knuckles of his hand, “You probably know what this was for.”  
Puzzled, Cadfael’s gaze switched from Dalayer to Yrdenne and back. It took an instant until it clicked. Cadfael rolled his eyes and touched his bruised cheekbone.  
“Seriously, you told him?” he snarled at Yrdenne, “Was that necessary?”  
Even though she tried to make her peace with Cadfael, she could not shake the thought off that he deserved it, so she simply shrugged.  
“I didn´t ask him to punch you.”  
“Thank you for nothing,” Cadfael spat and sent both of them an angry glare before he left the tent.

Yrdenne did not care if he was hurt or upset, she went to Iorveth and sat down on the edge of the bed. With trembling fingers, she brushed a strand out of his face, carefully trying not to touch his ear. Seeing him like this was unexpectedly hard to bear. Now that she was by his side again, guilt crept up in her guts.   
“Do you think it would bother him?” Dalayer asked. His clothes rustled as he shifted his weight, hesitated, then made a step towards her. An instant later Yrdenne sensed his hand on her shoulder.  
With a tight throat, she shook her head.  
“No, I don´t think so. For the Aen Seidhe, sex is something solely physical. At least for most of them.” She swallowed. “But it bothers him that I could chose you over him.”  
“He must be blind to believe that,” Dalayer sighed and squeezed her shoulder. “Is it all right if I leave you alone? I want to check on Cadfael. He offered me to sleep in his tent tonight and I have to make sure he doesn’t change his mind.”  
Yrdenne cupped his hand with hers and turned around to send Dalayer a thankful smile.  
“No problem, I’ll manage. Cadfael is not a bad person. He is just as messed up as we are.”  
Dalayer laughed out loud. “That explains why he and I get along so well. And I thought it was the aversion for Iorveth. Have a good night, Yrdenne. And call for us, if you need anything.”

Then, she was alone again.  
She went to the meeting room, grabbed a chunk of bread and a piece of cheese from one of the plates and poured some water from the carafe into a goblet. For an instant, she pondered if she should open the wine bottle, too, but dismissed the thought quickly, when she remembered what happened the last time she drank wine in this tent.  
Anger welled up in her chest. Anger at Iorveth, for being so carelessly heroic that he exposed himself to the illness. Anger at Cadfael, for being such a self-righteous prick. Anger at the Purple Lantern for warmongering, spreading hatred, and dragging her into this abyss – and anger at herself, for being so powerless in the presence of so many disasters.   
She was a disaster.   
With hanging shoulders, she returned to Iorveth and reached for the little brown bottle. Her experiment, more of a potion that just medicine. Freshly distilled herbal extract, hop umbels honey, some droplets of a mixture Aglaïs had given her and a small spoon full of an alchemistic tincture she had found in Dwynwen’s laboratory. Amplifyer said the label on the original bottle, and when she touched that bottle, the Brokilon jasper felt warmer against her skin, and buzzed slightly.

A rustle of the canvas behind her dragged Yrdenne out of her thoughts. Startled, she put the potion back on the nightstand so hastily it tipped, and twirled around. Yrdenne’s heart skipped a beat, but calmed down quickly when she saw who came to see her. Naisula greeted her with a wide smile.  
“Hej Yrdie, how is it going?” the dryad asked and cocked her head. “I didn´t hear anything from you, so I thought I hop by to look after you.”  
“Oh Naisula!” With a relieved sigh, Yrdenne threw herself into Naisula’s arms. The dryad embraced her softly and stroked her head.  
“It’s all right, my love.”  
It took all her strength to not burst into tears, but eventually, Yrdenne was able to release Naisula and look into her face.  
“Naisula I am a failure. I can’t apply a single thing Aglaïs taught me.”  
Still smiling, Naisula took Yrdenne’s face in her hands and leaned her brow against Yrdenne’s.  
“You are no failure,” she stated, “You are just utterly overwhelmed. I sense it even at the other side of the camp. But that’s all right, my love. Tell me how you fail, maybe we can figure it out together.”  
The willow bark-scent that enveloped Naisula calmed Yrdenne down, it reminded her of Brokilon and the careless days there. And of Midsommar, when everything was good.  
“I made herbal extract and mixt it with some…additives. Aglaïs told me I could activate and empower healing agents with my jasper and transfer the energy into the potion. But I already fail in calling the stone,” Yrdenne explained with hanging shoulders.  
Naisula laid her hand on Yrdenne’s chest, covering the stone with her palm. The warm touch stirred up a tingle in Yrdenne’s skin.   
“This place is basically humming with magic, but it’s very different to Brokilon,” Naisula mused, “To me, the stone stands out like a lighthouse when it´s active. I am sure I sensed something earlier.”  
Yrdenne blushed, and she hoped that the dryad wouldn’t notice it in the dim light of the candles.  
But the amused chuckle on her lips told Yrdenne that she saw it.  
“Spit it out! What happened?”  
Yrdenne bit her lip and lowered her gaze.  
“Maybe I had a moment with Dalayer…”  
Naisula’s jaw dropped and she raised her eyebrows.  
“What do you mean with ‘a moment’ and why did it activate the jasper?”  
“We had sex. And afterwards, Dalayer said my necklace glowed.” Yrdenne shrugged and her lips curled into a guilty chuckle. There was no better way to phrase it.   
Naisula, who’s hand still rested on Yrdenne’s chest, drew back and her expression darkened.  
“How dare you, Yrdenne! You fucked this dh’oine while Iorveth fights for his life? Seriously?” Appalled, she shook her head.   
Yrdenne’s optimism faded upon the reaction of her friend and again, the well-known guild-driven nausea rose in her stomach. What did she expect? That Naisula celebrated the hook-up with her? 

“I can´t change what happened,” Yrdenne murmured and dropped her shoulders. “And it was you who told me sex is not a big deal for the Aen Seidhe. I’m sure Iorveth won´t mind. He is the one with family, after all…”  
Naisula rolled her eyes and roared, she was so upset that she started to mill about.  
“I don’t care who would mind! I don´t care who you bed when you are bored. But in this situation you should have stayed by his side, and if he had twenty children with twenty different women! You are a healer, in mother’s name!”   
She threw her hands in the air, stopped and glared at Yrdenne.  
“What if he died while you enjoyed yourself with this prick? You are here to find a cure for this gods damned illness!”  
Anger blended into the guilt in Yrdenne’s stomach, and the bitter taste of disappointment. What was this dryad thinking? Yrdenne was as desperate to find a cure as anyone else, but she was only human.   
“Naisula’ calm down. I needed this escape, and Iorveth’s condition is stable. He is already much better than earlier,” Yrdenne snapped back. She did not need Naisula to tell her what she had to do, and what she did with Dalayer nobody else’s’ business. Obviously, Naisula disagreed.  
“Líosa is sick! And dozens of others, all loved by someone. This is not only about Iorveth; there are lives depending on you. You are responsible for them! So you better make your mind what was so different when you slept with Dalayer and get this jasper working!” Naisula spat the last sentence in Yrdenne’s face, she was fuming. “I will hold you accountable if Líosa dies!”  
Vehemently, Naisula pushed Yrdenne away, twirled around and left without another word. Yrdenne did not know how long she stared at the door and tried to grasp what happened.  
A wave of sadness and despair and utter loneliness crashed upon her, Yrdenne almost believed she would drown. Like in trance, she turned around, took her boots off and crawled onto the bed, so she could curl up in the empty space next to Iorveth.

Yrdenne did not know how much of the conversation he perceived, but out of nothing, Iorveth’s condition got worse. He threw his head from left to right, and he moaned and coughed and gasped for breath. Immediately, Yrdenne sat up and knelt next to him, unsure what to do.   
“Iorveth, I am with you,” she whispered and laid her hands on his arm, “Iorveth you are not alone, you are safe!”  
At first, nothing changed. Iorveth was shaken by the illness, his face distorted in pain and the muscles in his arms and legs twitched. Yrdenne cupped his face with her hands and continued to speak to him. But there was no reaction, no recognition of her voice, the seizure got worse.  
“Iorveth, I beg you, don´t leave me!”   
Helpless, she threw herself on his chest, wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face against his neck. “Iorveth, stay with me.”  
When he couldn´t, Yrdenne focus on her breathing, like Aglaïs had told her. Be the calm in the storm.  
Inhale, hold your breath, exhale.   
“You are not alone,” she whispered against his skin, and finally something inside him heard her.   
Iorveth calmed down, his breath steadied and he stopped moving.  
And a few instants later, he looked like he was just sleeping. Only his messy, hair gave evidence of what happened.

Nothing in the world could have dragged Yrdenne away from his side. She needed to feel him as much as he needed to sense her. But how long would he survive like that? Even if the illness did not kill him, how long could he survive without food? He needed help. Her help. Now.  
Taking one deep breath, she sat up and reached for her potion. Fortunately, it did not fall off the nightstand when she dropped it. Maybe this was a sign that the fates were on her side.   
“Maybe the secret of the jasper is not force or focus, but letting go,” she mumbled and thought of Dalayer.  
The extract in the little brown bottle was her biggest hope, and yet it had failed her. Or did she fail, because she did not give the potion a change to fulfil its purpose?  
Yrdenne shrugged and pulled the cork from the bottle. Gently, she opened Iorveth lips and dripped the dark liquid into his mouth. Nineteen droplets, one for every year she knew him. Then, she closed the bottle, put it on the nightstand and curled up next to Iorveth. Carefully, she wrapped her arm around his chest and leaned her head against his shoulder. She had nothing to lose.  
With every breath, she let go.   
She let go of the pressure to function, she detached herself from the hope of a future with Iorveth and erased any expectations she had. Not in a lifetime she would be able to transfer the energy of the jasper into the bottle. No matter what Aglaïs thought, she was no mage. She was not like Cjardeth. She was not Aen Seidhe. She was Yrdenne, a human woman. All she wanted was to heal Iorveth, not for herself, but for him. And for his child.  
And when she freed herself from the extortionate demands others had on her, and the high expectations she had on herself, the jasper on her chest begun to glow. 

She felt the tingle and the warmth before she saw the pulsing light, getting brighter and brighter. It flowed over her chest like liquid smoke and soaked into her body, spread through her arms. Awoken by the resonance, Iorveth’s Brokilon jasper begun to glow, too. Flickering at first, like a candle on the sill of an open window, but becoming steadier with each pulse.   
Awestruck, Yrdenne stared at the green light. She did not dare to move, scared to disturb the magic, but her wish to bring Iorveth back was strong. The understanding that it was her love that fuelled the healing energy mesmerised Yrdenne. She moved her hand on Iorveth’s chest and reached for his hand with her other, fingers intertwined.   
The pulse of the light matched his heartbeat – matched her own heartbeat. She wondered if she had ever experienced something so breathtakingly beautiful. The warmth of the Brokilon jasper spread through her whole body and enveloped her and Iorveth. She knew that nothing in the world could harm her or Iorveth. Eventually, Yrdenne’s mind was carried away by the light, and she got drugged by fatigue. Slowly, a new kind of serenity soaked through her mind, she dozed off, nestled against Iorveth’s side.

It was the orange light of the rising sun that woke her up the next morning, together with the sensation of something caressing her cheek. Drowsy, she opened her eyes and was stunned when she looked in Iorveth’s face. His open green eye met her gaze while he gently touched her cheek.  
“Yrdenne,” he mumbled with a hoarse voice, “Am I finally dead?”  
Out of nothing, her heart was in her mouth and tears filled her eyes. He was awake!  
“Iorveth.” Even a whisper seemed to be too loud. Was this a dream? To confirm what she saw, Yrdenne raised her hand and ran her fingers from his temple to his jawline. Iorveth closed his eye for a moment, savouring her touch.  
“I am not dead,” he assessed, “And you are really here.”  
“Yes,” she breathed, “Yes I am. I am with you, and you are alive.”  
It worked! The potion, the jasper, the weird magic Cjardeth had gifted her, they brought him back! Yrdenne was wide awake.  
“Are you… crying?” Iorveth asked and wiped a tear off her cheekbone. The weakness in his voice was heart-wrenching, but at least he was back.  
“No… yes. But because I am happy. We thought we lost you,” she rasped and forced herself to smile.  
Iorveth drew his hand back and covered his eyes to fight a sudden headache. He took some deep breaths before he looked at Yrdenne again.  
“So, it was that bad?”  
Yrdenne nodded.  
“We came yesterday, you were unconscious. According to Cjardeth, there is no return…” Yrdenne’s voice cracked, it was still hart to believe what happened.  
“You saved me, again,” this was not a question. Iorveth’s lips curled into a thin smile.   
“I had help.” 

Seeing him smile was overwhelming. Yrdenne was unable to think straight. Adrenaline rushed through her veins and her heart… her poor little heart fluttered like a swarm of butterflies in spring.  
“Naisula?” talking was still exhausting for him. With every question, his breath became heavier.  
Yrdenne propped herself up and scanned his face for remaining signs of the illness.  
“She… is here. Cjardeth and Dalayer did the major work.” With the heartbeat she spoke Dalayer’s name, she knew it was a mistake to mention him yet. Iorveth frowned.  
“Did you… did you say Dalayer? He is here?”  
Yrdenne sat up. The intimate moment of simply lying next to Iorveth and enjoying the nearness was over. Iorveth tried to follow her example, but pain flashed through his body, he gasped through clenched teeth and pressed his eyes shut. Gently, Yrdenne pushed him back in his pillow.  
“Careful, Iorveth. You just returned from certain death,” she murmured, earning her a slightly annoyed glance, which she politely ignored.   
“Yes, Dalayer is here. I am sure he and Cadfael will come as soon as they are awake. We will explain everything and answer your questions. Until then, you should eat something and…” She hesitated. Expecting, Iorveth raised his eyebrows.   
“I would like to check your vitals and examine you. If you consent, of course.”  
A smile flitted across Iorveth’s face, but there was something sad in his gaze.  
“Thank you for the… formal request. Since you are the healer and I aspire to be a well behaving patient, please, go ahead.”  
Yrdenne returned the smile, but cursed herself for making the situation so odd and distanced. Her fingers were slightly trembling, when she felt for his pulse and palpated his neck and jawline for lumps and swellings. Afterwards, she opened the lacing of his shirt and exposed his chest, so she could listen to his heart and his lungs. The memory of the night in the cave popped up in her head, when she had listened to his heartbeat for the first time. A dreamy smile appeared on her face and she wished she could just lay there and listen to his heart a little longer.  
“Are you happy?” asked Iorveth.   
Yrdenne winced and sat up. “What?”  
“Are you happy? With my heart I mean,” he repeated.  
“Oh.” A slight trace of pink tinted Yrdenne’s cheeks. “Yes, strong and steady, as it should be. I am a bit worried about your lungs, though. But a few days of bedrest should do the trick.”  
Quickly, she crawled off the bed to get Iorveth a decent breakfast.

Before she allowed him to eat or drink water, she handed him the rest of the herbal infusion with hop umbel honey and gave him half a spoon full of the potion. Iorveth tried hard to hide his frustration that he could not sit up without help and needed extra pillows in his back. Yrdenne did her best not to mother him too much, she knew he needed space.

As promised, shortly after Iorveth had finished his portion of rusk and fruits, Cadfael and Dalayer came to check on Yrdenne. They entered the room in the very moment she helped Iorveth to sit on the edge of the bed, to see if he was able to stand up on his own.   
“By the gods, Iorveth!” blurted the elf when he realized what he saw. Yrdenne could not hide a chuckle when she noticed the dark bruise on Cadfael’s cheekbone. He stopped so abruptly that Dalayer bumped against his back.   
“Cadfael, you idi… oh. Hej, Iorveth.” Seeing Iorveth awake, Dalayer went from perky to perplex within a heartbeat and sent Yrdenne an alarmed glance. 

Iorveth looked up, unsure what to think about the unalike couple. Before he could respond, Cadfael rushed to him and hugged him so boisterously that Iorveth almost fell over.  
“You ignorant, haughty, dim-witted prick,” Cadfael growled, while Iorveth gasped for breath. “How dare you to jeopardize your health like that? We need you here, you moron!”  
Yrdenne had to tug on Cadfael’s shirt so he would release Iorveth.  
“Nice to see you, too,” sighed Iorveth after his Officer let go of him, “I thought I ordered you to stay in Brokilon, though.”  
“You would be dead if I obeyed. You are welcome.” Cadfael squared his back and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Iorveth knitted his brows and turned to Dalayer.  
“Yrdenne told me I owe you, too.” The tension between the two men was almost tangible and Iorveth made no effort to sound enthusiastic about Dalayer’s presence. Yrdenne shifted her weight and wrapped her arms around her stomach. There was not much that made her as uncomfortable as Iorveth and Dalayer in one room.  
Dalayer shrugged, but the look he gave Iorveth was ice cold.  
“She convinced me coming here was worth committing treason.”  
Iorveth raised his eyebrows and sent Dalayer an acknowledging nod.   
“Thank you. I won’t forget that.”  
“He almost drowned you!” huffed Cadfael and plumped down on one of the chairs next to the bed.   
Appalled, Dalayer opened his mouth, but Iorveth raised a hand to shut him up.  
“Well, I am still alive, I guess. Maybe instead of brawling, you should brief me what happened and how my warriors are, Cadfael. We need to prepare for an offense against the Purple Lantern.”  
“As you wish,” snarled Cadfael.


	29. Healing

A fresh breeze blew through the windows, while Yrdenne, Cadfael and Dalayer told Iorveth what happened since he left Brokilon. Outside, the birds were chirping and greeting the new day, and inside, Iorveth patiently endured Cadfael’s accusations of being a careless and selfish prick. After that, he showed detailed interest in how they met Dalayer and about the current state of the camp. During the meeting, his expression darkened with every new information. Especially Dalayer’s mention of the marks and the traitor raised an uneasy feeling. The atmosphere was only lit up the gentle and proud glances Iorveth sent Yrdenne, when Cadfael told him how her infusion and the herbal extract already improved the health of the sick elves, and how their arrival raised the general motivation. Whenever he looked at her, a warm tingle spread through Yrdenne chest.

Nevertheless, she noticed his increasing exhaustion and when his breath became shorter. When Iorveth needed to catch his breath after arguing with Cadfael over the restrictions in the camp and the decisions he made before he fell sick, Yrdenne decided to cancel the meeting.  
“It´s enough for now, Iorveth needs rest,” she declared and got up.  
“But…” – “No!” she cut him off.  
“Well behaving patient, remember?” she added softer and squeezed his shoulder. She expected more protest, but to her surprise, Iorveth nodded.  
“All right, I will take some rest. In the meantime, please look for Idris. I would like to ask him a few things.”  
The three exchanged puzzled glances.  
“Eardreth’s Idris?” asked Dalayer and raised his eyebrows. “Is Eardreth here, too?”  
Cadfael cringed and the sudden sadness in Iorveth’s face made Dalayer regret his question immediately.  
“I… We don´t know where Eardreth is. But yes, it´s the same Idris. I need to thank him, he made sure that I always found food and water in my tent, so I could take care of more important things.” Iorveth knitted his brows and looked from one to another. But all of them shock their heads.  
“I need to talk to Deryn anyway, I will ask her if she found him. She was searching for Idris when I talked to her, yesterday,” Yrdenne suggested while she nudged Dalayer to leave the tent.  
“Cadfael, could you stay with Iorveth, until I am back?”  
Cadfael replied with a bittersweet smile, but silently accepted her order.

Outside the tent, Dalayer took a deep breath and run his hand through his hair.  
“He looks awful,” he stated and looked at Yrdenne with knitted brows.  
Helpless, she wrapped her arms around her stomach and nodded.  
“But he’s awake. And now that he knows we are here, he is determined to recover. Cjardeth told me that the mind-set of the patients is extremely important. Those who lose hope will lose their life. Iorveth has hope,” she explained and a soft smile flitted across her face. “Iorveth will survive for the sole point of proving you he can.”  
“All right,” Dalayer returned a sheepish grin. “Let’s see if we find Idris, then.”  
But even after asking their way through the restricted area and checking on all elves that were quarantined in their own tent, there was no trace of Idris. Even Deryn had not seen him and was deeply worried. At least, the news of Iorveth’s recovery caused a wave of optimism and, together with a new batch of the herbal extract Yrdenne promised to bring later, the hope returned to the sick bay.

To Yrdenne’s relief, with Iorveth’s return from the – almost – lost ones, the whole camp awoke from its deadly lethargy and, on his order, Cadfael managed to organize a partial opening of the restricted area, so those who wore protective elements like dimeritium could leave for meetings, hunting, and collecting herbs.  
Only Naisula treated Yrdenne rather reserved. As promised, she had organized more herbs from the common medical stash, but when Yrdenne asked her for help with the distillation process, Naisula used her duty with the patients as an excuse to stay in the sickbay. Yrdenne noticed that Lìosa lay on one of the cots and put two and two together. She decided to spare Naisula from further requests.

During the day, Cadfael, Yrdenne and even Dalayer took turns in caring for Iorveth, or at least made sure that a one of them was somewhat close to the tent all the time. But even though she was more than happy that Iorveth got better, Yrdenne felt uneasy whenever she was with him and avoided to be alone with him. Iorveth, too, acted aloof and distanced, and there was an entirely new phenomenon between them: awkward silence. The unconditional nearness that had carried her through the dark nights of Novigrad was gone, their conversations were shallow and sometimes when she touched Iorveth’s hand or arm, he cringed. So, she kept her visits as short as possible.  
After the joined dinner with Cadfael, Dalayer and Iorveth, she excused herself and returned to Dwynwen’s lab to distil another batch of the herbal extract. It was rather late when it was ready, so she decided to sleep in the bedroom upstairs. Before she went to bed, she stood at the window and watched the camp, wondering if Iorveth thought of her. Like stars, small bonfires and lanterns sparkled between the tent, and created a copy of the night sky on earth.

In the following days, Yrdenne kept her visits with Iorveth perfunctory, because she could not shake of the feeling her presence bothered him. His health was improving quickly and, soon, she decided it was save to leave him alone for a few hours and allowed him to make short strolls through the camp in Cadfael’s company. Astonished, she watched how Dalayer and Cadfael teamed up to take the lead on behalf of Iorveth, and when she saw how passionate Dalayer was about his growing responsibility and the trust it earned him, Yrdenne wondered how she could fail to recognize his potential back in Vizima. After all, he was the youngest Captain of the Palace guard in ages. Well, had been, before he gave it up to follow her.

Since Iorveth did not need her, or seemed to enjoy her company, Yrdenne spent most of her time in the sickbay, helped with the distribution of medicine and made treatment plans for those who caught the illness. Whenever Yrdenne felt overwhelmed by all those strangers around her, she secluded herself to Dwynwen’s house. It became her save haven from the estranging situation in the camp and each day, she spent more time alone there than in the camp.

In the evening of the third day, she realized that she avoided checking on Iorveth since lunch and guilt crept up in her stomach. So, she grabbed a wooden bowl with grapes from the kitchen table as a pretext to see him. Her heart beat faster with every step she made across the parade ground to his tent. And before she entered his room, she took a deep breath.  
Iorveth was sitting on his bed cross-legged, a pile of pillows in his back, and frowned at some papers Cadfael must have given to him. Someone had closed one of Dalayer’s makeshift windows with rugged stitches and a set of new white flowing curtains hung from the ceiling of the imposing four poster bed.  
“Hej, Iorveth.”  
When Iorveth heard Yrdenne, he looked up and, immediately, his stern expression softened.  
“Hello, Yrdenne.”  
Even though the past days had been difficult, her heart was fluttering like a butterfly. She put on her best smile and sat down on the edge of the bed.  
“How are you? I hope Cadfael was bearable today.”  
Iorveth put the papers on his crowded nightstand and met her gaze.  
“He is so caring, it almost scares me,” Iorveth chuckled.  
“That`s good,” Yrdenne nodded, and at the same time felt utterly stupid for not even knowing what to talk about. So she sat there in awkward silence and could not take her eyes of Iorveth.

She wondered if she could ever get enough of this view: his face framed by his slightly wavy dark brown hair, a part of it tied back in a messy bun while a few strands fell into his face and half-covered his bad eye, the noble appearance of his high cheekbones, the sensual curve of his lips she enjoyed kissing way too much, and the slightly fading scar that made him look so wild and daring. The leaf green of his eye was as vivid as ever and just from the way he met her gaze Yrdenne knew that, despite the emotional distance between them, he still cared for her. Being alone with him made her realize once more that it would rip her heart into pieces when he returned to Dol Blathanna.

“Um, I mean it´s good that he took good care of you, not that you were scared,” Yrdenne mumbled when she saw how Iorveth raised an eyebrow.  
“Are you just here for a final ward round or will you stay a little longer this time?” he asked right away. Yrdenne’s heartrate increased.  
“I bring you some grapes.” She gestured at the bowl in her hand and placed it on a chair next to the bed, since there was no space on the nightstand. “Of course I stay if you… want me to.”  
A smile flitted across her face.

There was something soft in his eye, something fond and caring, that hadn’t been there the past days, and when he reached for her hand and cupped it with his, a shiver ran down her spine.  
“If necessary, I’d beg you to stay,” he said and leant forward.  
Yrdenne held her breath when Iorveth raised his hand and caressed her cheek, running his fingers down the side of her face. The warmth and love that spread from her chest through her whole body was overwhelming, and more than anything, she wanted to kiss him. But how did he suddenly change his mind about her? What made him decide that, after three days, he wanted her? When he his face was only inches from hers, Yrdenne laid a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back.  
“Please. Don´t,” she whispered and shock her head.  
The lack of understanding and the bitterness in Iorveth’s expression was heard to bear. Yrdenne turned her head away and stared on the floor. How could she explain him why she did not want to be with him, for the sake of his family? But he saw her struggle and the confusion about his behaviour.

“Yrdenne… I think we should talk,” Iorveth tried to sound gentle, but he failed to dispel the disappointment from his voice.  
“Maybe, we should.”  
Yrdenne swallowed, but the lump in her throat did not go away. Her hands clawed into the mattress and she fought against the tears.  
“Please, look at me.”  
Again, Iorveth reached for her face and when she brushed his hand away, he sighed.  
“Dalayer was here, today. He wanted to speak with me about a certain issue, and I believe you know very well what that was about.”  
Yrdenne’s heart skipped a beat. Aghast, she turned to Iorveth and stared at him.  
“Dalayer?” What in all gods names did he tell Iorveth that made him want to kiss her?  
Iorveth answered the question right away.  
“He told me the truth about those documents Cadfael found in your bag. He explained that you did not know about their existence and that you don´t agree with anything written in his letter. And that you are, in fact, not his wife,” Iorveth swallowed and took a deep breath before he spoke on.  
“Dalayer assured me that, all those years, you never stopped waiting for me to come for you.”  
“And you needed him to tell you?” Yrdenne huffed and clawed her hands into the bedsheets. Incredible.  
“In Brokilon, I promised to come for you, I told you…” She froze when Iorveth laid a hand on her arm.  
“Yes, you did. I know –” He paused and inhaled while he searched for the right words.

“When I woke up from this myriad of nightmares and saw you, I thought everything was finally going to be all right. And then, one of the first things you mention is his name… It shattered me. I believed you followed my suggestion and chose someone… more suitable than me.” His shoulders dropped and for an instant, Iorveth closed his eye.  
“You only said that because of this stupid letter, didn´t you?” she asked and her fingers relaxed. Everything made sense now. Iorveth nodded.  
“The day I returned to the camp and found you chained to this tree, Cadfael brought me those documents in pure spit, to prove that you collaborated with the enemy. When you came to my tent, I just finished reading. Now, I am sure they are the reason why I became so angry with you. Without whatever was in my wine, that night,, I might have… simply asked you about it. When you were gone to Brokilon, I racked my brain about the meaning behind it.” Iorveth still struggled with the memory of that night, and with his behaviour towards her. He could have saved them a lot of pain, if he had talked to her about the letter.  
“And without reading the letter, there would’ve been no reason to get angry. Those two go hand in hand. Do you still believe Cadfael is not the one who drugged you?” Yrdenne made no attempt to hide the bitterness in her voice. Someone clearly tried to manipulate Iorveth, and their relationship.

“Yrdenne, I know it wasn`t Cadfael. I trust him.”  
His words hurt, but it hurt more to see him like that: Iorveth looked utterly lost.  
“I wish you had the same trust in me, though,” she murmured.  
Her heart was racing and a very certain nausea rose in her stomach. She was sick of this conversation, and sick of these games someone played with her – and Iorveth. When she wanted to stand up and leave, her legs did not obey. So, she stayed and decided to listen to him.

“How should I have known, after you did not want to talk about the past years? I thought you didn’t want to ruin that night, before you went back to him. And since I woke up, you were so aloof…”  
He knitted his brows and dropped his shoulders  
Open mouthed, Yrdenne stared at Iorveth. As if it was only her who had secrets!  
“You were rather standoffish, too,” she snapped and dug her fingers into the soft cotton of the sheets again. “You cringed at my touch.”  
“Because your hands were cold!” Iorveth snarled, and with a murmur he added, “and I did not dare to get used to your presence, because I believed I needed to let you go with Dalayer, as soon as I recovered.”  
His confession felt like a dagger stabbing Yrdenne’s heart. One word would be enough to have him back. If she just overcame her pride... How could she ever survive to let him return to his family? She needed to get out of here before this conversation shattered her into pieces.

“Now, you know that I don´t intend to go with Dalayer. Can I leave now? Or is there… more to say?” She wanted to give him the chance to speak about his past, to tell her his truth.  
But he didn´t.  
“You are free to leave. But I don´t understand why you are so… cold. I apologise for my behaviour, with all my heart. But tell me what is wrong. I’d do anything to make you stay.”  
The despair in his voice oozed into her heart and soaked into the marrow of her bones. She felt it, she felt the same despair, and the same craving for him. Every fibre of her body wanted her to give in to this sensation, to embrace him.  
“Iorveth…” Yrdenne’s voice cracked and she teared up. She could not say it out loud, pressed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth instead.  
“Yrdenne, I love you. More than anything. And I know you love me. I beg you, tell me what drives you away from me!”

Pleading, he grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at him. It was unbearable.  
Yrdenne tore her eyes open again and locked her eyes with his.  
“I will not stand between a man and his family!”  
She almost screamed the words, and Iorveth froze.  
“I know about Seregthiel, and I know about your child. And I will not keep you away from them. I don’t want to be one of those women.”  
It was out. Irretrievable. With a heaving chest she stared at Iorveth and waited for a response.  
Iorveth returned the stare with wide eyes, horror-stricken. Shattered.  
“Who told you?” he rasped after he pulled himself together. When Yrdenne did not reply, he tightened his grip on her shoulders. “Who told you?!”  
“Idris,” she sobbed and turned her head away. Not to hide the tears that finally streamed down her face, but because she could not stand to look at him anymore. Immediately, Iorveth let go of her.

“When?” he asked, softer. The fabric of the sheets rustled when he shifted to her side and wrapped his arm around her.  
“Please, Yrdenne…”  
The pure thought of it tightened her throat so bad it hurt.  
“The morning when I left the camp. He said it was better to leave, because you had other responsibilities…” It was too hard to finish the sentence.  
“All these weeks? All this time you carried this and did not say a word when we met in Brokilon? It that why you did not want to talk about the past?” Iorveth was visibly upset and laid his hand on her leg. Yrdenne did not have the strength to brush him off. She did not want to brush him off.  
“I could not bear it,” she whispered, “I did not want to hear you say it out loud.”  
She closed her eyes when Iorveth leant his brow against her head. Despite everything, it was soothing to sense his breath on her skin.  
“I would have never said it,” he murmured, “Because it´s not true.”

The words echoed in her head like thunder, Yrdenne was unsure if she heard right.  
“Yrdenne, I don´t have a child,” Iorveth whispered, “Seregthiel lives in my house, in Dol Blathanna. But Idris should have known better, he is the father of her child. Not I.”  
Yrdenne burst into uncontrollable sobbing and Iorveth drew her against his chest. She buried her face at his neck and wrapped her arms around his waist.  
The truth and everything that came along with it was almost impossible to grasp. While Yrdenne cried all the tears she had held back the past days – and weeks – Iorveth stroked her back. From the trembling of his chest Yrdenne could tell that he was crying, too, silently.  
“I am so sorry… I wish I you had told me…” Iorveth breathed, “I wish I had known…”

Yrdenne was unable to reply, her heart somersaulted in her chest and a myriad of emotions rushed through her veins like a thunderstorm. She was shaking in relief. Iorveth held her tight and did not stop to stroke her head and back, and every now and then he kissed her hair. Around them, the world stood still, or maybe it burnt to ashes, Yrdenne could not care less. She inhaled his scent and absorbed the warmth of his embrace. He was truly hers, like he had ever been.

They were too entangled into each other to notice how Dalayer appeared in the doorway and caught a glimpse of their reconciliation. He stayed and watched for a moment, until Cadfael nudged his shoulder. When Dalayer turned his head, the elf nodded towards the exit. They left the two recovering lovers alone.  
“Are you all right?” asked Cadfael, when Dalayer stepped out of the tent behind him. Dalayer took a deep breath and stretched his arms over his head.  
“Yes, this feels right.”  
“It´s disgusting, isn´t it? How they seem to belong together?” Cadfael huffed. When Dalayer raised his eyebrows, Cadfael picked up a little stick from the ground and broke it in two.  
“At first, I thought Iorveth was playing games with her. I did not understand it. Blind as I am, I wanted to protect her from him… On Feainn, I followed them to confront him, and Iorveth…” Cadfael paused and clenched his teeth. “Anyway, they ditched me. And at first I wanted to leave them alone, I really did. But then I decided to go after them.”  
He threw a piece of the stick into the darkness of the night.

“Cadfael, you are a creep.” Dalayer stated and shock his head, but Cadfael continued.  
“Maybe I am. And I was a little drunk, and it was definitely not my best moment. I found them, eventually. She took a swim in a pond and he followed her and… I have never seen two souls aligned like that. I know Iorveth for almost a century, by the gods, I bedded him. But I have never seen him like that. I have never seen him looking at someone like that, touching someone like he touched her…”  
Dalayer tore his eyes wide open.  
“And you watched them?”  
“Just a tiny moment…” Cadfael raised his hand in front of Dalayer’s face and pinched his index and thumb together to illustrate how long he watched. “Iorveth is not tiny though…”  
“Cadfael! Stop this! You are a nightmare!” Dalayer buried his face in his palms, but Cadfael laid his arm around Dalayer shoulder’s with a sheepish grin.  
“It was mesmerizing. And healing. I understood that, for Iorveth, it’s her or nothing. He got so depressed in Dol Blathanna, that I seriously started to worry about him. But since she showed up… This woman gives him life. Dalayer, my friend, I don´t want to be cheesy, but if true love exists, it’s them.”  
“Cadfael, are you drunk?” Dalayer shock Cadfael’s arm off and looked around if there was someone to aid him.  
“Yes, I might be. But also, I am jealous as hell.” Cadfael threw the remaining piece of his stick into the darkness. Then, he cocked his head and looked at Dalayer.  
Dalayer sighed.  
“I need a drink, too.”

Inside the tent, Yrdenne begun to calm down. She clung to Iorveth, her breath became even and her tears ran dry.  
“I am devastated that you had to go through this,” Iorveth whispered and kissed the top of her head once more. Yrdenne leant back and met his gaze. While she wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, Iorveth kissed another tear away.  
“As if it was any better for you…” she murmured, dug her hand into his hair and leant her brow against his.  
“But you were willing to give me up, because you thought someone else needed me more than you… And despite that, you came back to save me. To save my people. I don´t know how to make amends for that. I don´t deserve you.”

Slowly, the ease spread in Yrdenne’s chest, too. While her world had darkened the past days, now her future seemed a little brighter.   
Iorveth looked at her, scanned her face, he was mesmerized and spell-bound, and relief expelled the worry from his look, only a certain trace of guilt stayed.  
“You were willing to give me up, too…” Yrdenne reminded him.  
“But not for him. Only for your own sake…” Iorveth took a deep breath. “Yrdenne before we commit to this, we should speak about a few things.”  
A shiver rand down Yrdenne’s spine, but he was right. They needed to lay bare everything that could affect their relationship. She nodded.  
“Before we commit to this, we need to unravel the past five years. I want to tell you what… has been between Dalayer and me. I don´t ask for forgiveness… but I want you to know.”  
Iorveth brushed a strand of hair from her face and breathed a kiss on her brow.  
“I am here to listen.”  
He looked at her with so much affection, that a wave of unease rushed through her body and it took a moment to fight it down.

“It´s a short story, really,” Yrdenne inhaled once more before she spoke on. Telling Iorveth about Dalayer felt like exposing the inner core of herself.  
“Our life in Vizima was busy, but despite living in a crowded court, I often felt utterly lonely and unseen. Dalayer, Malik and I went out every now and then, to have some company. All of us found it difficult to make new friends, because no one understood the demons that haunted us… I did not want to tell anyone what I have been through. But Dalayer and Malik knew. With them, talking was easy, and they understood when I did not want to talk at all. One night, Dalayer mentioned that he mainly came to Vizima because of me and I realized that he still loved me.  
At first, I tried to keep some emotional distance, but at the anniversary of the battle of Novigrad, I had too much wine and I felt so utterly lost, and lonely… and Dalayer was there. I noticed how he looked at me… So I went for it. I took what I needed. I tried to fill that gaping hole inside my chest with the love he was so willing to give.  
The first time was a drunk accident. But the next time followed a week later. And another night, until it became a habit. I always went with him and left before he woke up. We never talked about it, I thought he understood that I was still waiting for you. But Dalayer was always hoping for more.  
Some weeks ago, he confronted me and asked for a decision. It was the day before I left Vizima with Moira and Ennis. He knew I would not return until I found you. And he still snuck that letter into my knapsack…” Yrdenne paused. For an instant, she wanted to stop her narration at this point, but where would it lead if she got back to Iorveth and only told him half the truth? So, she continued.  
“I could not believe my eyes when I saw Dalayer in the Temerian camp, the other day. He told me that he left Vizima to search for me. It was Cadfael who invited him to come along, even though I did not want him to join us, but… you know how Cadfael is. I told Dalayer what awaited him, that you would be here, and to my surprise he went with us anyway. It took a wholehearted conversation for me to understand why Dalayer came here, that we are family. Dalayer, Malik and I.  
The day we arrived here, Dalayer and I tried to sort things out and I told him that, even if you returned to your family, I did not want to be with him. I told him that it was never a decision between him and you, but either you or no one.”  
When she spoke out the last words, a gentle smile flitted across Iorveth’s face, and Yrdenne had to overcome her own guilt to continue.  
“I was a wreck, that day, because I thought I needed to save you, only to lose you again. I am not proud of it, but… the conversation ended in bed, and I slept with him.”

Carefully, Yrdenne studied Iorveth’s reaction. But he was calm, and nothing of the fondness in his gaze faded. The opposite happened, Iorveth softly breathed a kiss on her mouth.  
“I can assure you that I could not care less who you bedded, when you were lonely. What wrecked me was the thought you chose him over me. And I still fear that you will regret choosing me one day… I am scared that, once you are older, you will miss things I did not give you. Things you could have with him.”  
Yrdenne’s lips curled into a soft smile and she took his face in her hands and returned the kiss.  
“I doubt there is anything he can give me and you don´t, and I am not talking about a manor in Temeria.”  
But Iorveth’s expression darkened and he struggled for words.  
“Yrdenne… as I said, there is something I need you to know.”  
Iorveth leant back, ran his hand through his hair and looked at the tapestry, avoiding her. Yrdenne’s heart skipped a beat. What else could come upon them now?  
“You know that Seregthiel and I used to be… lovers, many years ago. Even before I joined the Scoia’tael. I was young and angry and so full of hatred against the whole world… she believed she could calm me down, ground me. Already back then, she badly wanted a child. To her misfortune, I didn’t, because I didn’t want to bring another being into this cruel world and send it to be caged in ghettos, slaughtered in a pointless rebellion, or to be put on a stake for bumping into the wrong human on the market. I did not want my offspring to go through the same hell I went through.” Iorveth paused and clenched his jaws for a moment.  
“Her desire to have children was so fervent, that she exchanged the contraceptive potion I took with a plain herbal infusion.”  
The bitterness in his voice was overwhelming. Yrdenne sensed the betrayal and the hurt and laid her hand on his, but she could not hide a chuckle. “The reverse Cadfael.”

Iorveth huffed a laughter.  
“Yes, the reverse Cadfael. Luckily, I noticed it soon enough and broke up with her. But my faith in others was shattered and, since then, I allowed no one to break my trust like that again. I built a wall around myself, a wall that only one person gloriously tore down.”  
There was no need to say more, the way Iorveth looked at her send a whirl for fluttering butterflies through Yrdenne’s chest. She remembered what Iorveth had told her about his sense of attraction, and what it took for him to allow himself to fall in love.  
“Iorveth, I will not betray you like that. I could never…”  
Immediately, Iorveth shook his head.  
“I know. That’s not what I mean.” He took a deep breath. “Yrdenne, I still don´t want children. I will be the last of my line. I will not bring another Aen Seidhe into this doomed world to suffer, especially not a half-elf. There was a brief time when I thought I could be a father… but then I lost you.”  
For an instant, the memory overwhelmed him and he squeezed his eyes shut. “The pain when I thought you died, the hatred of my kind against yours that caused this tragedy, the hatred against non-humans that rages through the realms ever since… the wrath and the rage that filled me, that almost destroyed me… I don´t want that for anyone, especially not for my offspring.  
Yrdenne, I need you to understand that we will never start a family. I need you to consider that. If you wish to be a mother, you would need to find… another father.”

On the outside, Iorveth seemed composed and watched her reaction motionless, but by his strained muscles she could tell he was anything but calm. Yrdenne did not know if she wanted to laugh or cry. So, she folded her hands in her lap and decided to go for the truth.  
“In Vizima, I took contraceptive herbs because I did not want to have Dalayer’s children. I did not want to be tied to him, when you’d come for me. I took them for years,” she said plainly and looked down.  
“That’s a long time.” Iorveth frowned, he didn’t understand her point.  
“A long time,” Yrdenne nodded like in trance. “Too long. For my body, at least. I poisoned me, Iorveth, and now I’m infertile. If I really wished to be a mother, no one could give me what I wanted. Not even Dalayer.”  
Then, she laughed and shock her head. The situation was too preposterous.  
Another painful truth, but now that she spoke it out loud, it was not as painful anymore. If she was honest, Yrdenne had never seen herself as a mother. Relieved, she noticed that Iorveth did not pity her. He was rather puzzled.

“I am sorry that the fates took this decision from you. But why are you laughing?”  
Yrdenne looked up and met his gaze.  
“Because when I found out, it did not bother me much. To me, the worst about learning I am infertile was that I thought you had a child, and I was not able to give you one. I was scared you would not want me like that.”  
Iorveth cupped her face with his hands, so she had to meet his gaze.  
“Yrdenne, what I feel for you is not determined by your abilities. I want you to be a part of my life, no matter where, regardless of the circumstances. There is nothing in this world I want more than you.”  
With these words, he kissed her.


	30. Healing II

There was nothing in the world Yrdenne would rather do than kissing Iorveth. Feeling his lips against hers, tasting his tongue, sensing his hands on her… she was unable to make a clear thought, but she knew that kissing Iorveth was her favourite thing to do, ever.  
Her second favourite thing was looking at him, because when he drew back to meet her gaze, Yrdenne’s heart skipped a beat. No, she would never get tired of looking at him...   
“Iorveth, I love you.”  
As a response, Iorveth kissed her, deeply and with the aching longing from all the years that had passed. When he let go, Yrdenne gasped for breath.  
Iorveth cleared his throat.  
“To return to my question from earlier… will you stay a little longer, tonight?” he murmured with a fond smile. To see him truly smile was marvellous, but a seldom kind of distress in his gaze slightly unsettled her.   
“All night. Every night. For as long as you want,” Yrdenne replied and ran her fingers through his hair.  
Gently, Iorveth leant his brow against hers.  
“For as long as I live,” he replied.  
For an instance, a wave of sadness flitted through Yrdenne’s heart, because she knew the issue was not his lifespan, but hers. But she brushed the thought away. All that counted was now. One day after another.  
“But… I hope you are patient with me,” Iorveth murmured and lowered his gaze. “It might take some time for me to get… used to this.”  
Yrdenne chuckled.   
“To sharing your blanket?”  
But Iorveth shook his head, and when he raised his head, his eye was tearing. The distress in his expression prevailed.  
“To be loved.”  
The sudden turn of Iorveth’s mood frightened Yrdenne and the hurt in his voice was hard to bear. She cupped his face with her hands and gently kissed his cheek. And still, Iorveth turned his head away.  
“I was called bandit, murderer, terrorist and war criminal, and every of these words is true.” His voice cracked and Yrdenne shivered. Through all the years, she repressed this truth about him. It dawned to her, that his past had left its mark on him, maybe deeper that she thought. Iorveth bore scars not only on his body, but on his heart and soul, and knowing how proud he was, Yrdenne was sure he had never talked about it to anyone.  
“Yrdenne, I did horrible things, and I still recognize some of them as great victories for the Scoia’tael, for the Aen Seidhe. I am feared among your kind, and admired by others. But… being loved, like you love me. I don’t deserve that.”  
Every of Iorveth’s words was a needle stabbed into her heart. Gently, she took his hands in hers.  
“Love is nothing we earn, or deserve. Love is always given freely and unconditionally. I love you for who you are, and I know that this side belongs to you as well.”  
Finally, Iorveth met her gaze again, while his hands clawed into the sheets.  
“In Novigrad I was so overwhelmed by the feelings I had for you that I never spend a thought about how it would be for you, to return those feelings. Or what it would cost you…” His voice cracked. “And in Dol Blathanna…” Iorveth did not continue.

For a moment, Yrdenne felt utterly helpless. She knew how to treat disease and injuries… but even though she saw something was wrong with Iorveth, she did not know how to help him. He sat next to her on the edge of his huge bed with its flawless white sheets and curtains, barefoot and with hanging shoulders and this overwhelming and choking anguish.  
She had to do something. Anything.

Wide eyed, Iorveth followed her with his gaze when Yrdenne stood up and left the room.   
“Yrdenne…”   
He raised his hand to hold her back, but something made it impossible for him to go after her. He sighed relieved when, an instant later, she returned with a mug of fresh water mixed with a sip of wine for the taste and pushed it in his hands.   
“Drink something,” she said and kissed the top of his head. Puzzled, Iorveth did how he was told while Yrdenne took her boots and her mucky trousers off. A glance at the stains from working in Dwynwen’s lab told her she worked too much. Placid, Yrdenne neatly folded the trousers and put them on a chair before she – only wearing knitted socks, undergarments and the shirt he left her in Brokilon - went back to Iorveth, took the now half-empty mug from him and put it on the crowded nightstand. With a frown she noticed a dagger and two arrow heads between a plate, cutlery, Iorveth’s medication and his paperwork, but decided that she did not want to know the details. Instead, under the critical look of Iorveth, she crawled onto the mattress and closed the curtains of the four poster bed. From behind him, she wrapped her arms around his stomach and pulled him closer.  
“Cáemm, Iorveth,” she said softly. For an instant, her hand rested on his chest and surprised Yrdenne sensed how fast his heart beat. If she didn´t know any better, she would assume Iorveth was truly anxious.  
With gentle force, she nudged him towards the pile of pillows and nestled against his side, her arms still wrapped around his chest. Iorveth was strained and his heart beat fast, so Yrdenne begun to stroke his arm. Like Aglaïs had taught her, she focused on her own breath and heartbeat.  
“Maybe you want to tell me what happened in Dol Blathanna that unsettled you so deeply?”  
Finally, Iorveth returned her embrace. With his strong arms, he pressed her against his chest and held her tight.  
“I don´t even know where to start…” So much despair in his voice.  
In silence, Yrdenne continued to run her fingers down his arm, and up again, to his shoulder, to his neck. She drew patterns of spirals and vines on the fabric of his shirt and gave him the time he needed to find the right words. 

After a while, Iorveth took a deep breath.  
“I already told you that I swore an oath to serve Francesca Findabair, so the Scoia´tael could return to the Valley of Flowers. It was a bargain, my loyalty for the safety of the young Aen Seidhe. But she tricked me. This old hag tries to chain me to Dol Blathanna and… I don´t know how to escape her.” The bitterness in his voice was choking and his grip on Yrdenne tightened through the mere thought.  
“I felt caged from the beginning, but I knew it was worth it, for every child that was born and every elf who found a new home in the Valley of Flowers. It’s all that remains from the land of our forefathers, after all. And I missed you, Yrdenne, more than anything. So I started to tell myself that you are better off without me.   
And then, step by step, I uncovered the truth.” Iorveth paused. He closed his eye for a moment.   
“The house assigned to me is close to her palace, so at first I did not wonder that I did not meet any Scoia’tael in the city. It took almost a year until I ran into a couple from Toruviel’s command on the market, they carried an infant. And they told me, that the Scoia’tael weren`t allowed in town. After their arrival, they had to live in a village, in timbered houses, and when there wasn’t enough space, in tents. What they described reminded me too well of the ghetto in Novigrad… and for the Scoia’tael, decent housing was only for expecting couples, they were permitted to move into the city once the child was born. All their rights were tied to their offspring. And the older citizens of Dol Blathanna were not particularly welcoming.”  
A cold shiver ran down Yrdenne’s spine. But that was more.  
“Some of them tried to leave Dol Blathanna, because they did not want to raise their child in such a hostile environment. The guards told them they were free to go – but the child, as a citizen of Dol Blathanna, had to stay. They could either abandon their bairn or accept the circumstances.”  
Iorveth huffed a scoffing laughter.   
“I helped to create a breeding farm for elves.”

Yrdenne did not know what to reply and it was impossible to comprehend why the Queen of the Aen Seidhe would do that to her people. It sounded more like an evil scheme out of Radovid’s mind.  
“It did not stop there. When I confronted Francesca, she told me if I broke my oath, the bargain would be null and void. The Scoia’tael would be treated as what they were: war criminals. If I fled from the Valley of Flowers, they would be doomed.” Iorveth clenched his jaws. “First I lead them to war, and then I help to trap them inside a golden cage.”   
Yrdenne could only imagine the weight he carried on his shoulders and… the self-doubt that had grown through the years. From the legendary rebel leader to the henchmen of a sorceress.   
“That was about the time, when the visitations begun,” he continued. “Every now and then, a female from Francesca’s court would pop in, bring me wine or fruits. Since you know about, um, my preferences, you probably see that I did not understand what they wanted for quite a while. At some point, Lìosa explained to me that Francesca sent them to seduce me, equipped with fertility potions… A pathetic attempt to tighten my ties to Dol Blathanna.”

A fresh breeze flowed through the window and blew the white curtains. Even though they were thin, the fabric created a barrier to the outside, like palisade. The four poster bed, that looked to over the top and was so unalike for Iorveth, was his safe space here in the camp. His escape from the draining reality.  
“About a year ago, towards the end of my term in the camp, a unit of sentinels found Seregthiel in the woods. She was sick and injured, and deeply traumatized. Until now I don´t know what she ran away from. Dwynwen suggested to take her to Dol Blathanna, and, because of Francesca’s laws, I decided to take her into my house. I was sure she would not survive in the settlement of the Scoia’tael. It took a few weeks until she found out that she was pregnant… We decided to tell everyone the child was mine, so she would get access to decent health care, and I regained a part of my freedom.”  
“No visitors anymore,” mused Yrdenne, “So, that’s why Cadfael confirmed what Idris told me. About you and her. He doesn’t know…” Bit by bit, the pieces came together and made a picture.   
Iorveth nodded. “No one knows, except Idris. That’s the only thing Seregthiel told me about what happened to her. Eardreth, Idris and she were searching for me, and whenever Eardreth was not around, she laid with Idris. When Eardreth found out, they got in a fight. That’s the last thing she remembers…”   
Yrdenne swallowed a comment about the promiscuity of the elves. If Eardreth got upset, she was sure he had his reasons. Moreover, she noticed how Iorveth relaxed and calmed down with every piece he revealed. He was still upset and she could see in his gaze how torn he was. Broken, almost. Yrdenne thanked Melitele that speaking about it disburdened him.

“I am a puppet, Yrdenne. A chessman in Francesca’s game. I don´t even know how to tell you…” He took a deep breath. “I need to go back. When this is over, I must return to Dol Blathanna. Because if I don´t, the Scoia’tael might die.”  
There it was. The next obstacle in their path, and the reminder that Yrdenne, too, had responsibilities in Vizima. No matter how badly she wanted to be with Iorveth, sooner or later she would need to return to court to resign officially.   
“Then I will go with you,” the decision was quickly made. “If they won’t let me in, I will wait at the border. And if they don`t let you go, I will gather an army to come and get you. Nilfgaard itself, if need be.” Her voice was so gentle and soft while she spoke, but the words were dead earnest. Iorveth could not help it, a brief smile flitted across his face.  
“It’s slightly unsettling that I fully believe you will march straight to Emhyr var Emreis and ask for his support.”  
Now, Yrdenne smiled, too. She reached for his hand and intertwined her fingers with his.  
“I told you, this time I will not give you up.”  
“Despite everything that I have done? Even to my own warriors?” The doubt was carved deeply into his mind. Yrdenne sat up and fully turned towards him.  
“Iorveth, you gave everything you had. You were willing to give your life after the war, so the Scoia’tael would survive,” she cupped the bad side of his face with her hand, a reminder. “You gave all you had, and more. All your life, you fought for freedom, and you gave up yours for them to be safe. It’s enough, Iorveth. You gave enough.”  
He wrapped his arms around her again and drew her against his chest.  
“I am tired, Yrdenne. So incredibly tired…” His voice was only a whisper.  
“You are allowed to be, Iorveth,” she whispered back and breathed a kiss against his neck, causing Iorveth to wince.  
“That tickles…”   
Slightly indignant, Yrdenne squirmed herself free and looked at him.   
“Well then maybe give me space to give you a decent kiss.”   
To mock him, she leant forward and gently bit his earlobe. Iorveth’s grasp on her tightened.  
“You did that on purpose…” he growled. But it was a pleasant growl.  
Her mouth still by his ear, Yrdenne grinned, so her teeth brushed against his skin.  
“Yes,” she murmured so her lips grazed his earlobe, “and I will do it again.”

Before she could fulfil her promise, Iorveth grabbed her wrists, wrestled her around and pinned her to the mattress. There it was, his mischievous boyish smile. Yrdenne lay on her back and laughed, while Iorveth knelt over her and shook his head.   
“Now what?” Yrdenne asked, as if she didn´t know. So much about tired.  
“You are incorrigible,” Iorveth murmured before he leant down and pressed his lips on hers. Finally.

He kissed her slowly and savouring, with all his aching longing for her. Yrdenne’s heartrate increased and endorphins rushed through her veins. This was it, happiness. For the first time, being with Iorveth did not only feel like an adventure. Kissing him, tasting him, feeling him was strangely grounding.  
She freed her arm from his grip and dug her hand into his hair, drawing him closer, nearer, tighter. Iorveth chuckled against her lips before he continued to kiss her.  
His hand grazed her face, her neck, her breast and wandered down to her stomach. Shivers ran through Yrdenne’s whole body when he slid his hand under her shirt and his rough fingers met her skin. Calloused from too many fights and too many battles, but oh so gentle to her.   
“I’ll take my shirt off, if you take off yours,” she murmured against his lips between to kisses. Wordless, Iorveth sat up and pulled his shirt over his head. Yrdenne lay on the sheets and watched him, mesmerized and stunned. Her eyes grazed over his torso, the lean stomach and his sculpted chest with the moth tattoo – the tattoo he got for her. He was covered in scars, reminders of the life he chose, and the realization that every of those wounds had caused him pain saddened Yrdenne. Through the illness, Iorveth lost weight, it would take time to make a full recovery. Yrdenne wondered if this was the right thing to do after the afflicting conversation.  
When Iorveth looked down at her, smiling and with a fondness hard to resist, and tugged at her shirt, her dark thoughts faded.   
“Your turn,” he chuckled, and the desire in his eyes when she followed his prompt was boundless. As Yrdenne slowly slid her panties down her legs, Iorveth devoured her with his gaze and continued to undress, too. Bare naked, he laid down next to her and caressed her face.  
“You make me feel alive, Yrdenne,” he murmured and begun to kiss her jawline, and her neck.  
Yrdenne brought her hand to his bare chest and begun to trace the lines of the tattoo. His skin was so warm and soft… With his strong arms, Iorveth drew her closer against his body, and wave of arousal spread from her chest through her stomach to the apex of her thighs. Iorveth’s hands seemed to follow this sensation. He hummed in pleasure when he found the wet dampness between her legs. 

Yrdenne ran her hands down his back, the tips of her fingers just grazing his skin. She stroked his waist and his hips, down the outside of his thigh, and up again on the inside. Iorveth moaned when she gently wrapped her fingers around his considerable length.  
While she caressed him, Yrdenne kissed along his collarbone. She could not resist breathing a fluttering kiss on his neck again, resulting in a soft slap on her butt from Iorveth.  
“No tickles,” he murmured and kissed her hair. Yrdenne bore her teeth against his skin in a gentle bite. With a sigh, Iorveth reached for her wrists, pushed her on the mattress again, brought himself on top of her and he returned the soft bite in her neck.   
“Don’t challenge me…,” he whispered into her ear. Her heart skipped a beat by the seductive tone of her voice.   
“Then what?” she whispered back. Challenging him sounded exactly like what she wanted, so she nibbled at his earlobe. Iorveth growled and his grip on her wrists tightened, followed by a kiss so ravenous that Yrdenne gasped for breath when he let go. Iorveth continued to kiss her neck, her collarbones, making his way to her breasts. The sensation of his lips and the caress of his tongue caused a tingle rushing through her whole body and Yrdenne spread her legs for him, full of anticipation. Having him was more than overdue.  
To her surprise, Iorveth did not bother to give her what she was yearning for. Instead, his tongue and lips grazed her breasts, as if he had all time in the world.   
Eventually, he let go if her wrists and his mouth wandered towards her stomach, and further down. When he reached he apex of her thigh and begun to explore her with his tongue, Yrdenne screamed in ecstasy. What he did was entirely unexpected and close to the entire loss of her ability to think, Yrdenne was sure she would forget her own name if Iorveth continued. But he did, and he took his time with her.  
Her whole body felt like it was on fire, heat and lust raged in her loins, spread into her chest and limbs. Through her eyelashes Yrdenne caught a glimpse of the pulsing green light irradiation from her chest, the Brokilon jasper. Once again, it reacted to her body and the intensity of its glow matched her level of arousal. Iorveth quickly adapted to that, and whenever she was close to climax, he drew back and pecked innocent kissed on her lower stomach and her thighs until she calmed down. He knew exactly what he was doing, and eventually the yearning to feel him became overwhelming.  
“Iorveth… please. I beg you, come here,” Yrdenne moaned and stretched her arms towards him. She wanted him. Needed him. Now.  
Iorveth looked up and, slowly, he brought himself on top of her again, so he could whisper into her ear.  
“I told you not to challenge me…”  
She was not entirely sure if he wanted to torment or indulge her, but she was entirely sure she would challenge him again, and again.   
“Please, Iorveth…”   
Yrdenne gasped when he nibbled on her earlobe, desperate for his touch she clawed at his back and dug fingernails into his skin. Iorveth growled in pleasure and, finally, gave her what she was craving for so badly.  
Against Yrdenne’s initial doubts, the fusion of their bodies was exactly what they needed. Feeling Iorveth was utterly soothing and this act was mending the hurt between them more than any conversation could have. They moved slowly and cherishing, and every touch, every gaze was so filled with affection that Yrdenne got lost in the moment in an entirely new way.   
Iorveth covered her face in soft and gentle kisses and, eventually, his jasper begun to glow, too. Soon, they were enveloped by the healing light of Brokilon. It was them against the rest of the world, and nothing could separate them ever again.

“I love you, Yrdenne,” Iorveth murmured when he sunk into the sheets next to her. Droplets of sweat adorned his brow and his chest was heaving, making the moth look like it was softly fluttering. The fondness in his eye imprinted on her soul and Yrdenne knew, nothing would make her question his love and loyalty again. They were meant to be.  
While Yrdenne could not take her eyes off Iorveth, he reached for the crumpled duvet at the lower end of the bed, pulled it up and spread it over their bodies.   
“How do you feel?” asked Yrdenne and ran a finger from his brow down the temple and cheekbone to his jawline.  
Iorveth kissed the tip of her nose.  
“More alive than I felt for years.”


	31. Caught in the Rain

No sunlight and no chirping birds woke Yrdenne the next morning, but the noise of gushing rain on the canvas of the tent, and rolling thunder in the distance. She opened her eyes and propped herself up, only to find strong arms reaching for her and drawing her against Iorveth’s warm chest.   
“Good morning,” he murmured and buried his face in her hair.  
A tickling warmth and the sensation of deep love spread through Yrdenne’s chest.   
“Good morning, Iorveth.”  
She squirmed around in his arms to meet his gaze, but his eye was still closed. So, she pecked a kiss on his mouth. Iorveth crinkled his nose and opened his eye.  
“This is not a dream, right?”   
Yrdenne kissed him again, longer and deeper.  
“No, as far as I am concerned, you have to live with me from now on.”  
Saying these words out loud made Yrdenne’s heart skip a beat. Living with him – this was too good to be true. She wrapped her arms around his neck to kiss him again and nestled her still naked body against his. The reaction of his body was prompt and hard against her stomach.  
“If this is what waking up next to you is like, I don’t mind,” Iorveth purred into her ear and squeezed her bare butt.  
“Me neither,” she murmured into his ear, followed by a gentle bite into the earlobe.  
Eventually, she was astride of him and the patter of the rain was broken by their moans for a brief sequel of the past night.

A little later, a bare-chested Iorveth with tousled hair walked into the meeting room of his tent to have breakfast, followed by a similarly tousled Yrdenne, only wearing a shirt of him and her undergarments.  
“So, what are your plans for today?” asked Iorveth while he poured water into one of his crystal wine glasses. Yrdenne slumped down on one of the chairs, and combed her hair out of her face with her fingers.  
“I wanna to go into the woods to find some herbs. We ran out of hop umbel honey, and of hop in general. The last batch of the herbal extract finished yesterday. Most of your warriors are in a stable condition, but I am afraid it might get worse again if we don’t fill the stash… But hop goes bad if harvested on a rainy day. So, I guess I will help in the sick bay,” Yrdenne sighed and reached for the fruit bowl. With a gentle smile, Iorveth fished the apple she was aiming for out of the bowl and, quickly, begun to cut it in neat slices with a knife he grabbed from the table.  
“I see. As far as I remember, Dwynwen has some sort of garden at the back of the mountain. And Methran, one of the Aen Saevherne, has a bee stock there. I think it’s worth a try,” Iorveth suggested and slipped a slice of apple into his mouth before he slid a plate with the rest of it over the table to Yrdenne. “When the rain stops, we could go for a walk and I can show you where it is.”  
Her heart fluttered by the mere thought of a walk with Iorveth. How… normal that sounded.  
To her misfortune, the weather gods did not play along, and the rain continued through the day.

When they met Cadfael and Dalayer after breakfast to discuss the tasks of the day, the two politely overlooked the open affection between Iorveth and Yrdenne. Only once, Cadfael tried to make a dirty joke which earned him a smack against the back of his head from Dalayer. Later, when Yrdenne worked in the sickbay and Iorveth came to visit his warriors, Yrdenne tried to keep their interaction as professional as she could but sometimes she simply could not entirely abolish a love-stoned smile when she watched how he interacted with the sick.  
His whole appearance changed after that first night, not only did look much healthier and wide awake, but also his whole posture and aura had changed. Yrdenne mused that the activation of their Brokilon jaspers helped him to regain his strength. He was a leader again, the proud General of Dol Blathanna’s army, and his presence did not only motivate the elves even more. Inspired by his renewed positive attitude, Yrdenne found herself working with a greater dedication than before. 

Two days later, it was still rainy, but Yrdenne could not care less. Falling asleep next to Iorveth and waking up next to him was all she asked for, well aware it wouldn’t stay like that forever. When she left the sickbay to take a break, Yrdenne noticed that Naisula followed her. To shield herself from the rain, Yrdenne pulled the woollen cloak she wore closer and waited for the dryad to catch up. They had not spoken since the heated argument after Yrdenne’s gaffe with Dalayer.  
“Hej, Yrdenne,” Naisula waved shyly when she reached Yrdenne. Other than the rest, the dryad refused to wear a cloak, despite the heavy rain. She enjoyed the sensation of the droplets on her naked skin and since the temperatures were still mild she did not bother to wear more than her loin cloth, and an apron whenever she worked in the sickbay.  
“Hej, Naisula,” Yrdenne nodded. “How are you?”  
Naisula returned the nod and started to pick on her cuticle.   
“I am… fine so far. Lìosa is getting better, too.” She bit her lip and looked to the ground and made it impossible to meet her gaze. Yrdenne decided to wait until Naisula found her words.  
“Listen Yrdenne, I will not apologize for what I said the other day… But…” Naisula took a deep breath, “Thank you for your help. I am sure Iorveth wouldn’t be alive without you. And… Many others, too.”  
Yrdenne shrugged her shoulders, but a gentle smile spread on her lip.  
“I just did what everyone would have done. Helping is my purpose,” she nudged Naisula’s arm. “I would not be here without you, after all.”  
With a broad grin, Naisula looked up. Tiny streams of raindrops ran down her face.  
“Yeah, I think without me dragging you here they all would be lost. I am glad you came.” 

Out of nothing, Naisula’s smile faded and her ears twitched. Alarmed, she turned her head.  
“Do you hear that?”  
Yrdenne tried to listen, but there was nothing that stood out of the typical sounds of a camp, accompanied by rain. A hushed murmur here and there, rustling canvas and the clang of metal crashing metal, followed by an angry yell… Yrdenne raised her eyebrows, as far as she knew, sparring was cancelled due to the rain.  
“I don´t like that. We better have a look,” mumbled Naisula and nodded into the direction of the noise. Yrdenne raised her brow when she realized that it was the direction to Iorveth’s tent and the parade ground.  
It only needed another worried glance from Naisula, and the women started running. Startled elves jumped out of their way as the two dashed through the camp to Iorveth’s tent. There were not enough curses to express Yrdenne’s horror when she saw that her first association was right: The strange noise was the sound of clashing weapons.   
Dalayer and Iorveth were entangled in a sword fight, while Cadfael stood under the fly of the tent and watched them with arms crossed in front of his chest. He looked almost bored.  
The two contestants were rain-drenched and roared at each other like fighting wolves. Iorveth’s chest was heaving, he was gasping for breath and struggled to find a foothold on the muddy ground. But he parried every of Dalayer’s blows and the red smear running down Dalayer’s arm gave evidence that Iorveth still knew how to draw first blood.  
Yrdenne’s first impulse was to dart forward and throw herself between them, but Naisula was faster and wrapped her arms around Yrdenne’s waist to hold her back.  
“Yrdenne, no!”  
Naisula’s yell echoed across the field, causing Cadfael to take his arms down and shift his weight. He glanced at Iorveth and Dalayer before he decided to scurry to Yrdenne and Naisula. The motion was enough to distract Dalayer, and he found himself pushed backwards by a cascade of heavy strokes from Iorveth.   
“Yrdenne, calm down!” Cadfael called through the rain. Meanwhile, Naisula loosened her grip on Yrdenne and watched the two fighters, awestruck.   
In an attempt to impede Iorveth, Dalayer threw his whole weight into the parry. Sword pressed against sword and, inch by inch, they leaned closer and closer. Two warriors entwined.  
Yrdenne was too far away to understand what Dalayer said to Iorveth, but the elf bore his teeth and his eye narrowed to slits. It was too much for her.  
“Stop this madness!” she screamed and tried to wrestle herself free, but Cadfael reached her and grasped her shoulders.  
But her scream distracted Iorveth, and Dalayer managed to bring his foot behind Iorveth’s leg to trip him. A heartbeat later, Iorveth crashed backwards into the mud and found the tip of Dalayer’s sword pointing at his throat.  
“Dalayer, no!”   
Finally, Yrdenne managed to free herself. She pushed Cadfael out of her way and ran to Dalayer and Iorveth. She almost slipped on the rain-soaked soil and stumbled, and after she caught her fall, she was baffled to see how Dalayer sheathed his sword and offered Iorveth a hand to help him up.

When she reached them, the two were on their feet again and awaited her with guilt written all over their faces.  
“Are you insane?” she blurted and looked from one to the other. “What is wrong with you?”  
Both men were gasping for breath, Iorveth more than Dalayer. He looked pale and pressed a hand against his ribcage, but at least there was no blood. They were soaking wet, shirts sticking sleek to their bodies and droplets formed at the tips of their noses and ran down the hair strands that hung into their faces. Dirt was splattered everywhere and the wound somewhere on Dalayer’s arm was still bleeding, leading to a stream of blood running down to his hand, from where it dripped to the ground.  
“We were sparring,” Iorveth tried to bluff it out.  
“Are you kidding me?” Yrdenne stared at him with raised eyebrows and arms akimbo at her waist. She did not believe a word, this fight looked way too serious to be just sparring.  
“Actually, Iorveth wanted to prove something. And failed,” added Dalayer, which earned him a glare from Iorveth.  
Disbelieving, Yrdenne shock her head. 

Meanwhile, Cadfael and Naisula reached them, and while Naisula knitted her brows, Cadfael could not hide an amused grin.  
“I should have taken bets on this!”   
Yrdenne took a deep breath. She scanned Iorveth and noted that his legs were slightly trembling, he was exhausted. Even though his muscles remembered very well how to wield his weapon, he was still recovering and simply lacked the stamina. Dalayer should have known better. She opened her mouth to berate him, but Dalayer was faster.  
“I told him he is not in the condition to fight, and that I won´t let him come with us like that. He insisted to prove that he made full recovery.”   
“Come with you where?” asked Yrdenne and her expression darkened. The two men exchanged an abashed glance, but stayed silent.  
“Allright,” Yrdenne huffed, “You go and take a hot bath in Dwynwen’s house. Cadfael will get you dry clothes and, afterwards, you will explain what’s going on.” 

A little later, Yrdenne sat at the table in Dwynwen’s kitchen, a mug with steaming herbal tea in front of her, and waited for Iorveth and Dalayer. She had prepared a teapot full of herbal tea to prevent the two dorks from getting sick, after their headless fight in the pouring rain. Naisula was back in the sickbay, but Cadfael stood at the window and watched the weather. Eventually, Yrdenne heard the two chatting on the hallway, and an instant later Dalayer entered the kitchen and sat down on the table, across Yrdenne. Iorveth leant against the door frame with arms crossed in front of his chest.  
Both still had damp hair, but at least the rest of them was dry again, and their skin was clean and rosy from the hot bath. Dalayer looked slightly uncomfortable in the simple black trousers and light green shirts with Dol Blathanna embroidery Cadfael brought for them. He had the sleeves rolled up and a dressing covered his wound. A darkening spot indicated that he was still bleeding, but Yrdenne could not care less. He wouldn’t die from that cut. Besides that, she could not hide a chuckle to see them of all people wearing matching clothes. And to her relief, Iorveth looked a lot better than after the fight.  
“So?” she asked while Dalayer poured himself a cup of tea from the teapot on the table.  
Dalayer sent Iorveth a pleading glance, but when the elf didn’t bat an eye, Dalayer cleared his throat.

“Yeah… well…” he begun and scratched the back of his head, “A few days ago I sent a messenger to the Temerian Camp. Since the Army of Dol Blathanna is not in a particularly good condition, I suggested asking for help against the Purple Lantern.”   
The memory of Iorveth calling for an offensive flared up in Yrdenne’s mind.  
“And?” Yrdenne wrapped her hands so tight around her mug that her knuckles turned white.   
“Today, the messenger came back. I got the order to return to the Camp, to elucidate our plans...”   
So Dalayer would leave. Yrdenne had to admit, it was sort of sad, but why would that cause them to fight? She locked her eyes with his and waited for him to continue.  
“Yrdenne… Vernon arrived in the Camp. And he ordered you to return, too. The court is rather unhappy about your sudden disappearance a few months ago, despite your good and reasonable intentions,” Dalayer sighed, “If you don´t go, they might charge you with treason, or breach of covenant, at least.”  
“Oh,” was all Yrdenne could reply, an uneasy feeling rose in her guts.  
“That’s why I told him I’d go with you. To support his… elucidations, and to accompany you,” Iorveth threw in, and there was a trace of hostility in his voice. Dalayer turned around.  
“And I told you that you are of no help, when you fall off your horse because you’re not fit enough to wear your armor!”  
“I am fit enough”, snarled Iorveth.  
“You were trembling when I was done with you!” Dalayer snarled back.   
“That’s none of your business!”  
Meanwhile, Cadfael turned around and watched the two with a raised eyebrow. Helpless, Yrdenne looked at him, but he only shrugged his shoulders.  
“It is! Because you would endanger us!” barked Dalayer and stood up. Iorveth made a step towards him. “And I want to get Yrdenne there and back here in one piece!”  
“She can take care of herself, and so can I!”  
Dalayer rolled his eyes and smashed his fist on the table.  
“No Iorveth! There is a fucking bounty on your head, and if you show up with us they will gibbet her right next to you for treason!”  
Silence.

The anger vanished from Iorveth’s face, while deep worry appeared on Yrdenne’s.  
“Why didn´t you tell me, Dalayer?” she asked with a hushed voice.  
Dalayer turned to her and sat down at the table again. When he met Yrdenne’s gaze, the most prominent expression was guilt.  
“It’s a leftover from the Nilfgaardian war. Every now and then, the Military council goes through all the wanted criminals to weed out the profiles. When we came to him, I suggested to keep the bounty up. I got Vernon’s support,” Dalayer throat bobbed when he swallowed heavily, “I thought I could keep him away from you…”  
“Look how well that worked!” smiled Cadfael, but the smile faded quickly and he bore his teeth at Dalayer. “Jealousy is a bitch, isn`t it?”  
Yrdenne waited for wrath to well up in her chest. For hatred, anger, any feeling about this situation. But she only felt sorry about everything, and for Dalayer.  
“And you had to save this blow until now?” asked Iorveth and shock his head. “What were you scared of?”  
“To lose your trust. All of yours,” Dalayer admitted and stared into his mug. “I am going to fix this. It’s long overdue.”

With a smug grin, Cadfael went to Dalayer and patted his back.  
“It takes far more than a bounty to destroy Iorveth’s trust. He let Idris walk freely in the camp and carry a weapon, even though he knocked up Seregthiel and abandoned her in the woods.”  
“Cadfael…!” Iorveth sent him a warning glare.  
“What?” Cadfael asked and raised his arms.  
“Idris tried to protect Yrdenne, he took care of her when she was here, and he risked a lot when he came to Brokilon to warn us. Compared to what you did…” Iorveth clenched his jaws and Yrdenne and Dalayer exchanged an uncomfortable look.   
“What, Iorveth? If your precious boy Idris hadn’t made such a fuss about her, we would have kept her somewhere until your arrival. She ended on that tree because of his drama! And if he hadn’t explicitly told me to not, under any circumstances, let you read this stupid letter, I would have thrown it into the fire right away. He played us, Iorveth, and you didn’t even notice!” Blood rushed into Cadfael’s face, and his chest was heaving.   
“What do you mean, he played you?” asked Yrdenne with a trembling voice. Her hands still clawed at the mug in her hands, even though it was already empty.  
“Idris and Cadfael don’t get along well, and Idris knows how to push Cadfael’s buttons… However, I don´t think he meant to do harm. He was always loyal to me, and he owes you, since you saved his life in Novigrad. It was him who insisted that I follow you, after you left,” Iorveth explained grimly and shifted his weight.  
After taking a sip of his tea, Dalayer put his mug down and cocked his head at Iorveth.  
“You mean, he made sure you left the Camp with your best warriors, right before the Purple Lantern attacked and abducted the Aen Savherne?”  
Sickness rose in Yrdenne’s guts. Dalayer had a point.  
“It was Idris who gave me a horse when I wanted to leave the camp, and he told me it was good that I left because of… Iorveth’s child.”   
She wanted to swallow, but her throat tightened. What a nightmare.   
Only Cadfael found the situation rather amusing.  
“Didn’t you say Idris brought you food and drinks? Did he also do so the night you freaked out?”   
He laid a hand on Iorveth’s back with a chuckle, and looked at Yrdenne and Dalayer. “And am I the only one who finds it rather suspicious that he got out of the attack alive, managed to retrieve Iorveth and, as soon as Iorveth falls sick, he disappears? Come on!”   
“It can’t be Idris,” stated Iorveth, “Yes, he changed since I left the Scoia’tael… but he would never betray his people. Not like that.”  
“Where is he, then?” asked Cadfael with a subtle growl in his voice and jutted his chin at Iorveth and locked his eyes with him.   
Dalayer stood up in a heartbeat and laid his hand on Cadfael’s chest to push him slightly away from Iorveth.  
“We will find him,” Dalayer said and positioned himself between the two elves. Just in case. “But first, Yrdenne and I need to ride to the Temerian camp. Soon. Latest, tomorrow morning. I am sure we will get the answers we need as soon as we defeat the Purple Lantern.”  
Iorveth nodded.  
“We don’t have much of a choice, do we?”


End file.
